Trial by Fire
by Prisoner 24601
Summary: A series of in-game KoTOR shorts co-written with Dinah Lance now organized into one story that focuses on a Carth/f!Revan friendship with Carth/Bastila and Revan/Canderous romances. Prequel to "Contingency Plans."
1. Playing with Matches

Co-authored by Dinah Lance who wondered what would happen if her version of Carth met my version of Revan, which makes this is all her fault. Also, the following chapters were originally released as one shots and have now been consolidated into one story.

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_**Playing with Matches**_

Bathed in the soft glow of the computer consoles, Minuet Avery sat in the _Ebon Hawk_'s computer bay and stared at the map on the screen, as though by sheer force of will she could change the fact that in less than twenty-eight hours she was going to have to find a way to sneak into the heart of the Sith Academy on Korriban, find the hidden star map, and somehow get away without getting caught and killed.

No immediate plan sprang to mind, just obstacle after obstacle, and there didn't seem to be a way into the heavily guarded valley of the tombs other than through the Academy's front door. Min sat back with a sigh, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and tried to cheer herself up with the thought that at least this time she wouldn't have to hike through bug-infested jungles or scorching deserts. No, this time it would be actual civilization, or at least as much civilization as a ball of rock inhabited by power-mad, homicidal teenagers and their demented teachers could be. Still, she figured that it couldn't possibly be worse than camping.

Min was in the middle of wondering how the hell her thirty-year-old self was going to scam her way into a prep school for acne-riddled Malak wannabes when she sensed Carth's approach. When the doors hissed open, she didn't even need to turn to tell that it was him; he was utterly distinctive in the Force, his purposeful, steady, and solid presence blanketing the room.

"What's up, flyboy?"

"I need your help with something." The pilot crossed the room and turned to lean against the console in front of Min, crossing his arms over his chest. "When we get to Korriban, tell Bastila to stay on the ship."

Min leaned back in her chair and frowned up at him, surprised by his out-of-the-blue request. She knew Bastila's social awkwardness sometimes rubbed people the wrong way, but despite that, or maybe even because of it, Min had found herself growing quite attached to her bondmate.

She thought that Carth got along with her as well, at least she had hoped he did considering how much time they seemed to spend in the cockpit piloting the ship.

"Why? What happened? Did she do something to tick you off?"

The furrows in his forehead deepened as he blinked at her. "What? No." He shook his head. "No. We just... we can't let her be recognized." Looking out into the corridor, he scowled. "I'd rather not run another Sith blockade, thanks."

Min recognized the stubborn set of his jaw and the tense line of his shoulders as the same look he would get on Taris, right before he'd begin his paranoid interrogations. It was disappointing; she'd thought the two of them were well past shouting matches and trust issues. Min wondered what the hell had crawled up his ass this time and decided that the only way to find out was to deny his entirely reasonable request.

"I realize that you've been out on the battlefield for a while, but there are these newfangled things, some call them 'disguises' even." Min punctuated the word with a twitch of her long brown fingers. "If we dress her up in one of those, she should be fine."

Onasi snorted. "You're kidding, right? I may not know much about the Jedi or the Sith, but even I've noticed you people don't need to use your eyes to recognize someone." He gestured to the doorway and smirked. "Like the way you like to show off that you know who's there without turning around."

"I wouldn't be able to recognize you through the Force if we hadn't been stuck on this tin can together for the last four months. I'd just know that someone was standing out there." She propped her long legs up on the computer panel in front of her, crossing them at her ankles and settled in. "It'll be the same thing at the Academy. They might recognize her from a holoprint but that's an easy fix. We'll just cut her hair really short and dress her up in something that's not that damn jumpsuit."

This time the scowl was directed at her. "You'd gamble our mission on a haircut?" He shook his head again, stubbornly. "It's a moot point anyway. There's no way Bastila will let you cut her hair."

Min blinked at Carth in surprise, boggling over how he'd suddenly become an expert on her bondmate's ornate hairstyle. There was only one reason that she could think of for Onasi's stubborn insistence, and now that she knew what had riled the pilot up, her irritation evaporated into amusement.

"Of course she will. She knows it's her duty as a Jedi to do whatever to it takes save the Republic. Force knows she's lectured me about that often enough." Min considered for a moment before tossing more fuel on the fire. "Plus if she wears that leather outfit the Black Vulkars put her in, no man's going to be looking at her face, anyway."

"That's not... you can't just..." Onasi's mouth hung open for a second as his face slowly reddened. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!" he finally burst out. The index finger on his right hand snapped up and started wagging. "Making her stand out like that? That's... what the hell is the matter with you? It's not enough you'd get her killed, you'd have to humiliate her too?"

Amazed by this protective side of the pilot she'd never witnessed before, only the evil desire to see how far she could push his adorable outrage on Bastila's behalf kept her face straight. "Whatever. She's going to look awesome when I'm finished with her. She might be self-conscious about it at first, but she'll loosen up. It'll be good for her."

Her composure nearly cracked when he crossed his arms again and fixed her with a stony stare. "Not gonna happen. You're not jeopardizing the mission so you can play dress-up at Bastila's expense."

She figured there was probably a reserved spot in the nine Corellian hells for bitches just like her, but it was going to be worth it. "Is that so?"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Did you fall out of a wroshyr tree? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Oh, I don't think I'm the one who's fallen here." She cocked her head to the side, laughing. "You know, you're downright adorable when you're protecting a woman you have a thing for."

The moment of silence before Carth laughed was extremely telling. "Now I know you fell out of a tree. Maybe you should go to the medbay."

"And maybe you should cut the banthashit. I'm on to you now, so there's no point in pretending." She let her feet drop to the floor, opened the drawer next to her, and pulled out a bottle of cheap firewhiskey and two glasses. It wasn't the fine wine she preferred, but at least the whiskey would get him drunk faster. "Sit down and have a drink. I think you're going to need it."

He stared down at her a second longer, then dropped into a chair, sprawling his boots out toward the console and covering his face with his hands. "Maybe I fell out of a tree." He sighed and pushed his hands back through his hair, then snagged one of the glasses. "Or the crash on Taris. Clearly we both suffered head trauma."

Min's brows lifted. "You've been carrying this around since _Taris_ and you haven't done anything about it yet?"

The glass paused halfway to his lips. "I'm not doing anything about it. Not yet. Not ever." He drained the drink in one swallow, grimacing at the burn. His finger pointed at her again from around the glass. "And you're not doing anything about it either."

"Why the hell not? The two of you would be good for each other. Someone needs to put a boot up your ass if you can't see that." She punctuated that point with a shot of her own; the foul liquid sliding down her throat made her eyes water, and she barely managed not to cough. She wondered if Onasi was appreciating the sacrifice she was making by drinking this cheap swill on his behalf. Probably not.

"It's just... it's not anything to do anything about," Carth said. He held his glass up to the harsh ship lighting before sighing and setting it on the console. "It's four years is what it is," he muttered. Then he sat back and twitched his shoulders in an irritable shrug. "Can we talk about something else now?"

"No," she said as she poured them both another drink. Min's empathic Force abilities were abysmal at best, but even she could feel the pain and loneliness radiating from him. "Look, I've never been in love, so I probably don't know what the hell I'm talking about, but I do know you, and I know this wouldn't be eating you up if it were just lust. Which means despite all the crazy, fracked-up shit you've been through, and despite the fact that the galaxy is going to hell, you've actually managed to find someone to give a damn about. I don't understand why you won't give it a shot."

Carth just looked at her for a long moment. "You're right," he finally said. He reached for his drink and took a sip. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he finished with a smirk.

Min was proud of the way her hands spread apart in a conciliatory gesture instead of smacking the back of his head the way they itched to.

"Enlighten me then. Please tell me why you're sitting here having a drink with a nosy bitch like me, instead of down the hallway making out with a beautiful, nubile, and, might I add, _flexible_ young Jedi who thinks you have a cute ass."

Somewhere between "flexible" and "cute," Carth spluttered into his drink and started coughing. Min watched, fascinated by the way his embarrassed flush crept up his neck and face, even turning the tips of his ears pink.

It was a full minute before he managed to get himself under control, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Can we _please_ talk about something else now?" he choked.

"If you think I'm going to let you off the hook before you spill your guts to me, then you're either amazingly optimistic or extremely dense."

"I think we both know it's not the first one." He shook his head. "Look, you said it yourself. Young Jedi. Hell, she's probably not much older than my..." He trailed off awkwardly for a second, then took a sip of his drink. "I'm practically old enough to be her father. And that's ignoring the Jedi part of it."

Min knew that she shouldn't laugh at him now that he was actually being honest, but with the whiskey warming her belly and loosening her tongue, she really couldn't stop herself. "With all the hangups the two of you have, what you're worried about is being a dirty old man? That's really, really-" _adorable, idiotic, hilarious_ "-wholesome of you."

Carth glared at her. "You're a big help, you know that?"

"I like to think so." Min shifted in the chair, pulling her long legs underneath her. "She's twenty-four, Onasi. She's not jailbait. Her problem isn't her age; it's the way the Jedi have kept her cloistered her entire life."

"Well, I'm not looking to un-cloister anybody," Carth replied stubbornly.

"What do you think is happening when you spend all those hours in the cockpit with her? You're doing it already by being her friend, not her master or another Jedi or even someone she's supposed to watch and keep out of trouble like me. That's why you're good for her."

"Friend is one thing," Carth said, tapping his fingers against his glass. "Jedi can have friends."

"Jedi can have lovers too." Min knew that for a fact because she'd specifically asked Master Zhar about it before she'd agreed to sign on. Watching the normally calm Twi'lek stutter out an answer was almost as much fun as making Onasi squirm. "They're just not supposed to get attached to them. Which is probably one of the reasons why that whole damn Order is so fracked up."

Carth sighed. "Look, fracked up or not, the Order is what she knows. And I'm not ready to go messing around with that, all right? Especially not with someone who's not far past half my age."

Min arched an eyebrow. "It's not your job to protect her from making tough choices. She's a grown woman and it's up to her to decide whether or not she wants to obey the rules of the Order."

"Right," Carth drawled. "Like the way you made a copy of the holocron on Tatooine and gave it to Bastila's mom before she'd decided what to do."

Min's mouth dropped open before snapping shut with an audible click. She didn't think he knew about that. "That's different."

He sat back in his chair, looking irritatingly smug. "Is that right?"

"Yeah, that's right. She was tearing herself up over it and I knew that if she didn't give it to her mother she was going to wake up one day and hate herself for it. I couldn't let her do that!"

"The point is," Carth said, leaning toward her again, "you wanted to protect her. Which is where this whole conversation started, if you remember."

"Call me crazy," she shot back, "but I don't think Bastila needs protection from handsome pilots who want to make out with her."

"We can't all be as quick on the draw as some Mandalorians," he muttered into his glass.

Min fumbled the whiskey bottle she'd just reached for. Only quick reflexes and her Force powers kept it from falling off the console and shattering on the metal floor. She didn't meet his eyes as she carefully placed the bottle back on the table. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh." Carth set his glass on the console and leaned back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Who's shoveling the banthashit now?"

"How did you -" She glared over at him, as though the fact that she'd been necking with Ordo was somehow Carth's fault. "Bastila told you, didn't she? Dammit, I told her to keep her mouth shut."

"It wasn't Bastila," he said, smirking. He was enjoying himself way too much.

Groaning, she leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. She supposed that it didn't really matter. He knew and now she was going to have to deal with it. Better to just get it over with. "Okay, lay it on me. Give me the lecture about how stupid and reckless I'm being."

"You are being stupid and reckless." He shook his head. "But mostly I'm just surprised."

"You and me both." Irritation with herself and the situation as a whole made her grip her empty glass hard enough that her knuckles went white. "Part of me wishes that I'd just slept with him right away and left him on Dantooine before it got too weird. Now I have this big fracking mess and I haven't even gotten laid yet."

Carth brought his arms down from behind his head and snorted. "And you're chewing me out for not getting involved in another big fracking mess?"

"Oh please, you and Bastila would be good for each other. Canderous and I..." She paused and set her empty glass on the console before she broke it. "Well, I don't know what the hell we would be."

"Me neither," Carth mused. "I know they say opposites attract, but you and a merc? Let alone a Mandalorian. _Let alone _one as old as Ordo."

Despite everything, Min couldn't help but laugh at the way Carth stubbornly clung to his age hangup. "He's _not _old. _You're _not old. You've been listening to Mission's geezer talk way too much."

Carth reached for the bottle again, and Min nudged her glass in his direction. She let the silence stretch as she watched his steady hands pour out the amber liquid. It was oddly reassuring, like she could hand anything to him: a blaster, a plasma grenade, the controls of the _Ebon Hawk_, and trust him to do the right thing with it. She wondered how he'd handle a dark admission about herself.

"I should know better, I know. He's not the kind of man it's smart to feel anything but lust for, but he gets under my skin in ways I never knew were even possible."

After pouring his own drink, Carth swirled the bottle of whiskey. "I may need more booze for this." He drained the glass, hiccuped slightly, then began to pour another. "Okay. Go ahead."

Min made the confession over her the rim of her glass. "Have you ever met someone that can see right though you? Right past the banthashit and the posturing and the sarcasm and the jokes, to see what you're really like? Someone who can see things in you that you didn't even know existed?"

He stopped pouring for a second and glanced at her with uplifted eyebrows. "Ordo? Really?"

Black curls bobbed as she shook her head ruefully. "Trust me, I'm as surprised as you are. But that's not the problem. The problem is why he wants me."

The other chair creaked as Carth leaned back. "I'm not following."

"I'm a warrior, like him, Carth." She met the pilot's eyes, wondering if someone so fundamentally decent would be able to understand, to not hate or despise her for what she was about to say. "When I'm in a battle, the way it makes me feel..." She took a long, hard swallow, not even feeling the burn of the whiskey anymore. "I feel alive in a way that I don't even understand. I'm not proud of it, but as much as I bitch and moan about how much I hate this mission, I know that deep down, this is what I was born to do. Canderous knows it too. It's draws us together and it scares the hell out of me."

The ensuing silence was broken only by another creak as Carth shifted in his seat again. His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand as he rocked it back and forth. "Anyone with eyes could see you're born to do it," he said finally. "And you've only been a Jedi for a few months?" He shook his head and took a sip, then finally met her eyes again. "I'm not gonna lie. The way you all talk about the Dark Side... Sometimes it scares me too. And not just for your sake."

"It scares Bastila too." It was hard to tell through the bond, but sometimes Min thought Bastila wasn't just scared for her, but scared of her. It hurt more than she'd thought possible. "But I want you to know that I'd never hurt her, and I'm not going to let her hurt herself either."

"I know," he said. "If I thought you would hurt her, you wouldn't be on this ship."

Min pointed at him. "And that, right there, is why I want you together. Because you'll protect her." She waved her hand irritably. "This isn't the Dark Side though. I could understand and fight it if it were. It's more like there's two of me. The person I'm supposed to be: archaeologist turned reluctant Jedi who does her duty for the good of the Republic, and this person underneath who revels in battle, lives for the challenge of this mission, and thinks a Mandalorian general is the most attractive man she's ever met."

She sighed and stared into her glass. "I sound crazy, don't I?"

Carth rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and rested the hand with the glass on his knee. "Attraction doesn't always make sense. As for the rest of it..." He shrugged. "In a few weeks you went from cataloging some artifacts for the Jedi to being their last hope to save the galaxy. That kind of shift would mess with anyone's head."

Though his expression didn't change, she suddenly felt another stab of loss in the Force surrounding him. "Something like that happens in your life and it changes who you are. Makes you into something you never thought you'd be."

His words seemed to hang in the air between them until she asked softly, "What did it make you?"

"Someone who cares only about killing." His smile was grim and rueful. "I may not have been born to do it, but I sure as hell am going to revel in it."

"You don't care only about killing. If you did, you wouldn't be in here trying to protect Bastila." Her dark eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Maybe that's the problem. You've found someone else to care about and it's getting in the way of your revenge."

He glared at her, angrier than she could remember seeing him, and Min knew she'd hit the mark. "I told you it's not... it's not anything. Nothing's getting in the way. I'm going to kill him."

"Son of a schutta," she breathed. Her own anger and frustration with her friend bubbled up, tightening her voice as she fired the words off like blaster shots. "That's it, isn't it? You don't want something else to live for. You want to wallow in your loneliness and grief and plot revenge against a man that you'll probably never get close enough to actually kill because it's a hell of a lot easier than actually living."

"A few months as a Jedi and you think you have the galaxy pegged," Carth snapped. He drained his glass and slammed it on the console. "I lost _everything_. Don't think you can know what that means."

Min would have stood and glared down at him, but she was pretty sure that she'd had too much whiskey to do that effectively, so she just leaned forward and snarled, "Do you honestly think you have some kind of monopoly on grief and fear and pain? Almost everybody on this ship has lost just as much, if not more than you. And if you're not careful you're going to end up like Jolee-a lonely old man hiding on shithole of a world as the galaxy passes you by. Or worse, you're going to end up dead because you've done something reckless and stupid to get to Saul.

"Well, frack that. You're my friend and I owe you way too much to just sit and watch you piss your life away without saying something. And if that ticks you off, well then that's too damn bad."

Carth shot to his feet to tower over her. "Listen, sister, you..." He wavered slightly for a second, then dropped heavily back into his chair with an explosive sigh. "You're right, all right? I know I'm not the only one who's lost something. And if I was going to do something stupid to get myself killed, I would have done it by now." He fixed her with a slightly bleary glare. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to jump into bed with a beautiful woman just to make you happy, got it?"

"Got it. You're an idiot." She tipped her head back and let the rest of her drink slide down her throat. "Just think about what I've said, all right?"

He snorted. "Can I forget the parts about Ordo?"

"Hey, that's your own damn fault. You brought it up, not me."

He rested his elbows on his knees. "What about Bastila? Are you going to talk to her about Korriban or not?"

"Of course I am." She shrugged. "I already decided she should stay on the ship before you even came in here."

Brown eyes gazed back at her unblinking for a long moment before he shook his head with a wry grin. "Maybe you and Ordo deserve each other. You're both huge pains in the ass." Standing, he finished his drink as well and set it on the console.

Min rose too, her manicured hands resting on the console to keep her from wobbling. Her smirk was downright feline. "By the way, you'll be staying on the ship too."

One eyebrow raised. "Oh, I will, will I?"

"You're practically the poster boy for the Republic. And all Republic war heroes and famous Jedi Knights need to say on board because, like you said, we don't want you to be recognized and risk running into a Sith blockade."

Carth shook his head, but the slight smile remained. "Careful. You keep interfering in other people's lives and they're going to put you on the Council."

Min clasped him on the shoulder. "If you weren't such a bonehead, I wouldn't have to meddle." She dropped her hand and nodded toward the door. "She's alone in the swoop hangar, by the way, all sweaty and flush and limber from working out. Just in case you change your mind."

As she'd hoped, his face reddened one more time. "Thanks," he muttered sarcastically. Then he managed to match her evil grin. "And you might like to know there are security cameras in the cargo bay."

Min swore under her breath at her own careless stupidity; she should have known that was how he knew about her and Canderous. "You should disable them; otherwise you're probably going to see more Ordo than you ever wanted."

He grimaced as he left. "Consider it done."

She watched him leave with a chuckle, hoping that he was going to go see Bastila, but figuring he'd end up at the security camera controls instead. By the time she'd sat down and turned back to the console, she was already plotting her next move.


	2. Smoke and Mirrors

A/N: The following five chapters were originally released as one shots that all tied together. Had Dinah and I known at the time how long the series was going to get, we would have posted them all as one story. Instead, they were spread out over both of our author's pages in a horribly unorganized fashion. So we've decided to consolidate them as our profile pages are getting so cluttered that it's difficult to find stuff. So I apologize for the notification spam for those who have already read it, and ask for your patience as we organize and clean stuff up. Thanks!

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**_Smoke and Mirrors_**

Bastila supposed that Korriban was a victory. They had retrieved the Star Map and no one had been injured beyond the skills of the Jedi to heal. They had even recovered Carth's lost son and all but destroyed a Sith training facility. By all accounts, the mission continued to be a success.

And perhaps anyone who could not feel the tumult of Min's emotions and did not know Min's true identity could count it so. But Bastila was not so fortunate. Once she was certain that all of the crew would recover, she left the med bay and went in search of Min. Her bondmate had not sought healing, though Bastila could feel her pain, both physical and mental.

By the time Bastila reached the women's quarters, Min was hobbling out of the refresher. The bloodied and torn Sith robes she'd worn at the Academy dangled from the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and an expression of obvious distaste adorned her face.

"Are you all right?" Bastila asked. It was a rather silly question; their bond made it clear that Min was anything but all right. But given what Min had been through on Korriban, it seemed important for her to articulate what she was feeling. It seemed equally important that Bastila hear it.

"I will be." Min looked up at the ceiling and scowled. "Once I can figure out a way to burn these damn things without setting off the fire suppression system." Bastila watched the shudder race down her bondmate's spine. "I don't want anything from that fracking planet on our ship."

"Perhaps the airlock," Bastila suggested, trying to conceal her relief from the bond. She had been half-afraid that Min's disquiet was the result of leaving Korriban and its influence.

"Not as satisfying but far more practical. Airlock it is." Min dropped the clothes into a pile on the floor before easing herself onto her bunk. She hissed in pain before asking, "How are the others? I'm assuming they're okay if you're in here."

"Mission's injuries were superficial. I assisted Jolee in healing himself, and he is as capable as I of healing the others. Certainly more so in Zaalbar's case." Bastila crossed the small room and sat beside Min on the bunk. "I came to see if you need assistance."

Min turned and let the towel wrapped around her torso slide down, revealing a mass of newly formed bruises that covered her back, already turning purple and yellow underneath her brown skin. "Just that and my sprained ankle. Gifts from Uthar." Brief images flickered through the bond of red and yellow lightsabers locking together and then a wave of foul energy slamming Min back against a cold stone wall. "I should have poisoned that bald son of a schutta when I had the chance."

Bastila laid a hand on her bondmate's back and let a wave of Force healing flow through her fingers. "Why didn't you heal yourself?"

"The Dark Side taint in those tombs was too strong." Min closed her eyes and rubbed the dark circles under her eyes with the palm of her hand. Bastila could feel Min's exhaustion seep through their bond. "I couldn't focus on something like healing there, not after two duels and everything else I went through today."

Bastila sat back, folding her hands in her lap and focusing on maintaining a neutral expression and tone despite the anxiety of Min's exposure to the Dark Side. For it was Min and not Revan, as she constantly struggled to remind herself. Or perhaps convince herself. "I assume Uthar and his apprentice did not survive?"

"Uthar didn't, but Yuthura yielded." Min turned to face her. "I shouldn't have let her go. She could cause a hell of a lot of trouble for us if she wants to."

Relief mingled with Bastila's worry once more. Perhaps it was a strategic error to allow a powerful Sith to escape, but that made the act of mercy all the more important. Revan would never have allowed compassion to cloud a tactical decision. "I'm surprised to hear she yielded. From what you told me of her, she seemed quite determined to assume power for herself."

Min stood, gingerly testing her newly healed ankle. "I'd like to think that it was because she finally realized the Sith were using her and that the Dark Side was consuming her, but it probably had more to do with my lightsaber next to her throat." She met Bastila's eyes; fear, tight and cold, scurried from one woman's mind to the other. "I liked her, you know. Hell, under a different set of circumstances, I could have been her."

Min's emotions and admission undammed Bastila's own checked fears. "How do you mean?"

"Almost everyone at that school was a power-hungry bastard. But she wanted to help people—people she thought the Jedi had turned their backs on. I get her frustration and anger with them because I've felt it myself. I'd like to think that if I'd been in her shoes, I would have made better choices, but I'm pretty sure I would have lost my way, just like her." Min's lips thinned as she dropped her gaze to the metal plating of the deck. "I almost did, and I was there for less than three weeks."

Every word Min spoke was more true than she knew, and Bastila struggled to find words of guidance or comfort. "Perhaps she can serve as a warning for the future. Even with the best of intentions, we must be vigilant to match our actions to our goals." The words sounded like a student reciting a lecture she was not entirely sure she had understood, even to Bastila. Not for the first time on this mission, she wondered if the Masters had made a horrible mistake, both in allowing Min to roam freely and in expecting Bastila to direct her path.

"They offered me control of the Academy." Min finally looked up, dark eyes glinting in the dim light. "I wanted to take it. Even though I saw what it had done to her, even though I knew it was wrong, there was a part of me that thought I could handle it. I was so angry with the Jedi—for the way that they've let all of us down. Me, Yuthura, Juhani, and especially you."

"You think the Jedi have let me down?" To be included in a list of three Jedi who had given in to the Dark Side—even if Min didn't know it in her own case—stung. Bastila tried so hard to quell her own misgivings, to trust in the Council who had placed such trust in her. Min obviously did not share their trust.

"Yeah, I do." Bastila could feel resentment, anger, and bitter betrayal twisting deep inside of Min, somewhere the Council, with all their power, hadn't been able to touch. "That's what the Council always does. They sit on their hands and spout their idealistic banthashit that no one can fracking live up to, as they toss their best and brightest to the firaxan sharks." Min strode over to her storage compartment and jerked it open, her hands clenching the latch tightly. "They dropped the fate of the galaxy in your lap and shoved you out the door with just this crew as your help." Her hands started to shake as she continued, old bitterness shattering into a more recent pain. "And they left you bonded to a woman that you're afraid of."

Bastila had been surprised at how deeply Min felt things; she had expected Revan to be cold, calculating. But now she could feel Min's hurt, and she searched for a truth to alleviate her friend's pain.

"It has been many years since I felt power like yours," she offered. "I have felt secure in the knowledge that my ability outweighed all those around me. Even among Masters, though many are more talented or more disciplined, few can match me." It sounded arrogant, she knew, but it was the truth. "But you are far beyond me. And I find myself both concerned and... envious, I suppose."

"Envious? Of me?" Min stared at Bastila for a few seconds. "Bastila, you faced down _Darth Revan_ and came out in one piece. I faced a few pimply teenagers and some Sith middle management and nearly fell."

"Korriban's influence is deeply corrupt. I also felt it." Though she had been pleased to discover that she was not tempted by that influence. Despite Min's trials, careful meditation was all she had needed to remain focused.

Min shivered again and pulled out a pair of warm ship knits, putting them on as she spoke. "Even after all the lectures and even after that temple on Dantooine, I wasn't prepared for how… " She groped around for the right word. "… _familiar_ it was. Putting on those robes, pretending to be one of them… it was so easy. Compared to me those kids were amateurs. And the nights… frack, between all those damn visions of Revan and Malak and the way that the walls would just close in and whisper to you… I don't think I would have made it off that rock if it weren't for Canderous and the others."

Shock splintered Bastila's control. "You had visions of Revan on the surface?"

"You didn't?" Min frowned. "I had them almost every night. I even had a few during the day when I was awake."

Only a lifetime of mental discipline kept Bastila's panic in check. "Perhaps the planet's energy amplified your visions while at the same time interfering with our bond." She silently prayed that the word "visions" was not a lie. "What did you see?" she asked, keeping her voice and the bond carefully calm.

"Some of them were about the Star Map. Some of them weren't. That place wasn't just an academy. They used to take Jedi there, to break them." Min slammed the compartment shut. "I'm glad you didn't see them. I wish I hadn't too."

They were clearly memories. As Bastila had gotten to know Min and even become friends with her, she had felt some qualms regarding lying about her identity, but the Masters believed that maintaining the illusion was necessary. Bastila was entrusted with preventing Revan's return by any means. Even if it meant hurting her friend.

"It may not have been only Korriban's influence," she finally said. "Your relationship with Canderous leaves you vulnerable. It's dangerous to continue, Min."

The word cracked across the room. "_What_?"

Bastila jumped slightly, startled by the vehemence of Min's response, but she was determined to make her point. "Emotional attachments are a danger to any Jedi. Especially an attachment to a man such as Canderous Ordo."

Long seconds passed as Min began to pace, her agitation making her movements sharp. Bastila didn't need the bond to tell her that Min was trying to get her temper under control, but under the anger she could feel fear and doubt bloom. Finally, she stopped and spoke. "I can't just flip a switch and stop caring about him. People don't work that way!"

"You're right," Bastila said quietly. "People do not work that way. But we are not just people. We are Jedi. And so we must train ourselves to 'flip that switch,' as you say, or risk harming not just ourselves, but the people we care for." It was a lesson that Bastila had learned long ago, starting as a frightened six-year-old weeping for her father silently in the night. It was a lesson that she knew she must adhere to regardless of the affection she might feel for Min or the other members of the crew.

Min crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "Canderous is entirely capable of taking care of himself. After Korriban, he's seen me at my worst and if he's willing to take the risk, then so am I."

Given the seriousness of the situation, Bastila refrained from rolling her eyes. "That is precisely the problem. He sees you at your worst and is unconcerned. Even if you fell, I doubt it would matter. Even if you were to threaten Mission or Carth or myself, he would not stop you."

Bastila's words had the same physical effect as if she'd slapped her bondmate across the face. "You think that I would try to hurt you and the others? You have that little faith in me?"

"It's not a matter of faith." Bastila felt the absurd urge to laugh. It was simply too ridiculous to be explaining the Dark Side to Revan. "If you were to fall to the Dark Side, you would hurt anyone who stood in your way. You would turn your back on the Order and the Republic itself. You would care for nothing but your own power."

"So instead you want me to turn my back on someone that I care about and focus only on duty? Frack me, Bastila, that just as dangerous as what the Sith do!"

"It is necessary," Bastila snapped. She forced herself to take a deep breath; the emotions reflecting between them were too strong. "Caring for one individual so deeply interferes with your ability to separate your emotions from your judgment. What would you do if he were injured? Or killed?"

Min's voice rose to a near shout. "Probably the same thing I'd do if you were killed! You're the closest thing I have to family, dammit! Am I supposed to cut you out of my life too?"

Feeling simultaneously touched and frightened, Bastila was at a loss for a moment. Because of their bond and the mission, she had believed that her closeness to Min was unavoidable. Now she began to see the danger of that thinking. If they both survived this mission, perhaps it would be best to attempt to break the bond. She was surprised to find that instead of relief, the idea brought her a sense of loss.

"If caring for me endangers you or others, then that is something we should guard against," she said quietly. "By whatever means are necessary."

"No!" Hurt and frustration slammed through the bond, crashing against Bastila's mental defenses. "Caring about you and Canderous and the others didn't put me in danger back there; it's what got me _out_. It gave me the strength to turn that power down and walk away. And if you can't understand that, then the Jedi really have let you down in more ways than I realized."

Bastila wanted to believe her; Min felt she needed these connections. But Bastila had to weigh the wisdom of centuries of Jedi Masters ahead of the desires of a woman who had already fallen. And, Bastila reminded herself, when Revan fell, she took many Jedi with her, probably using arguments very similar to these.

"You admit yourself that Korriban was difficult for you, while I did not struggle so much. I was captured on Taris and humiliated by the Black Vulkar gang and maintained control. Can you truly not appreciate that the Jedi have done more for me than you will admit?"

"Like what? Take you away from your father? Steal your childhood? Cloister you from any kind of normal human interaction for most of your life so that you don't know how to connect with other people? Dump a bunch of responsibility on you and hold you out as the last great hope of the Republic despite the personal cost?" She sighed. "Bastila, I've watched you struggle to stay aloof from everyone for months, but it doesn't have to be that way."

This time Bastila did roll her eyes. "Socializing is not the point of this journey, Min."

Min's brows shot up. "That's pretty rich coming from the woman who spends most of her free time in the cockpit making eyes at our pilot."

Surprise at the sudden reversal and a jolt of embarrassment left Bastila momentarily speechless. "I beg your pardon?" she finally managed.

"You heard me." Min pointed at her bondmate. "You have a crush on Onasi."

"That's absurd." Bastila turned away from Min to straighten the blanket on the bunk. "I am a grown woman and a Jedi. I do not have a _crush_ on anyone."

"Right. I forgot. Jedi don't get to have feelings about other people—especially handsome Republic officers. That must have been somebody else I was sensing over our bond."

Realizing she couldn't smooth the blanket indefinitely, Bastila sighed and turned back to Min. "Is there a reason you feel the need to make something significant out of an idle, passing thought?"

"Maybe because it's not idle or passing. You've felt this way since at least Dantooine."

If Bastila were honest with herself, she had been struck by Carth Onasi's looks and easy charm since she had met him on the _Endar Spire_. Of course, she and Min had not been bonded then, or at least had not been aware of their bond. "I'm confident it will pass once our mission is finished."

"So that's it? You're just going to pretend that you don't care about him until it's too late to act on it?" Min threw her hands up. Her frustration was so strong through the bond, Bastila could almost taste it. "What am I saying? Of course that's what you're going to do. You're going to hide behind your duty and the Jedi Code and let something that could be wonderful for both of you slip right through your fingers."

Bastila bristled at the intrusion and the implication. "You mean as Jolee's marriage was wonderful?" she shot back. "It is rumored that Revan and Malak were lovers. You would have us end as wonderfully as they?"

"You don't know that's why they fell. There could have been a thousand other reasons, like oh, I don't know, maybe the Council sitting on their ass and letting two inexperienced young Knights go off to war by themselves." Min gestured toward the hatch. "And as for Jolee, go ask him about his wife. Ask him if he regrets marrying her. Ask him if she fell because he loved her or because she wanted power."

"I imagine he regrets allowing his affection to blind him to what she was becoming. I imagine he regrets the Jedi she killed. And the Council did not let Revan and Malak go off to war. They did everything in their power to stop them." Min's temper stung the back of Bastila's mind, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "I cannot allow my judgment to be so impaired. Not when so much is at stake."

"Your judgment is already affected by how you feel about him! You agreed to let me risk this whole mission to help his son. A Jedi who followed the Code would have left that kid on Korriban and not gotten involved because that's the rational, logical, emotionally detached decision to make."

It was frightening the extent to which Revan's disdain for the Jedi lived on in Min. "You truly believe the Jedi to be so cold? You truly believe Master Zhar or Master Vandar or even Master Vrook would have left that young man to the Sith, whatever his familial connections?" Deep down even Bastila had to admit it was not all compassion. Dustil Onasi was surprisingly powerful. And the Council had already shown themselves willing to take great risks to turn a Sith to the light.

"These are people who stood by and watched planets burn because they thought it was for the greater good. Look at what happened to Juhani—they didn't even try to get one of their own back!" Min's hands clenched into tight fists. "One word from Dustil and we would have all been dead or captured. There is no way they would have risked this entire mission or losing you and your Battle Meditation to rescue one lost kid who in the grand scheme of things is pretty fracking insignificant."

Bastila didn't need to feel the spikes of Min's anger to know this was a dangerous conversation. "You must understand," she said, trying to move the conversation back to the here and now, "that there is a difference between saving someone because you are attached to them and saving someone because it is the morally correct thing to do. And that there are times when saving someone is not the correct thing to do." She met Min's gaze firmly. "I know you care for all of us, but you must understand that not all of us may survive. For the sake of the mission, sacrifices may be necessary."

"I know that, okay? There are times when I can't believe that we're all still alive." She paused and Bastila could sense Min's stubbornness setting in. "I'll do what I have to do to get the job done. But I'm not cutting myself off from Canderous or you or anyone else because they might get killed, and you shouldn't either."

"I am not talking about someone potentially getting killed in the course of our mission." Even without the bond, looking into Min's eyes would have been enough to speak to the depth of her affection for their comrades. Bastila reminded herself that it should serve as a warning against the power of the Dark Side—that this compassionate woman became a ruthless killer who cared only for power.

"Whatever the Council may have intended by sending me with you," she continued, "we both know that it is you to whom this crew looks." They had barely left Dantooine when Bastila had been forced to accept that truth, one that had brought her an equal measure of relief, hurt, and envy. "When the moment arrives that the mission can be saved only through sacrifice, you are the one who will have to make that choice."

"This isn't fair! I didn't ask for this responsibility. Dammit, six months ago I was an archaeologist who'd never even picked up a blaster before. And now–" She broke off abruptly as she stood. "I have done everything that you and your damned Council have asked of me. Fought the battles, made the plans, done the Jedi training, risked my life for this mission. You can't ask this of me. It's too much."

"I'm not asking you." All of Bastila's anger and fear dissolved as she looked up at Min. She felt nothing but sympathy for someone asked to shoulder too heavy a burden. "You are destined to lead. That is why this path has been laid before you."

Min just looked at her in silence for awhile, her emotions such a tangled mess that even her bondmate could not decipher them. "I know. I don't understand why it is, but I feel it too. I know that I'm supposed to be here, and there's a big part of me that enjoys the battles and challenge of this mission. Before Korriban, I thought I could handle it. But after tasting what the Dark Side really is, leading this crew, doing this mission just seems so fracking big. I can't do it alone, Bastila. I need the people that I care about or I'm not going to make it through this. And if I have to sacrifice one of them... " She sighed. "I guess all I can say is that if the time comes, I'll try to do the right thing, whatever that is."

Bastila rose to stand beside her bondmate. "Have faith in yourself, Min. The crew does. It is why they follow you so willingly."

Brown eyes met blue and she could feel Min's silent gratitude as her bondmate considered her words. She could see the tension slide off Min when her lips twitched and she shook her head. "They follow me because I'm a pain in the ass and bitch at them until they do what I want."

Bastila fought a smile as well. "It's effective nonetheless."

Min shot Bastila a wry look. "I don't know about that. You and Onasi seem to be doing a pretty good job of ignoring me. He'd be good for you, you know. And he needs someone like you."

Bastila sighed. "I believe Carth Onasi is perfectly capable of deciding for himself what he does or does not need." And despite her training, Bastila had occasionally found herself searching for some sign from him that Min was correct. She had yet to discover any, which was surely just as well and certainly no cause for disappointment.

Min threw her hands up in mock surrender. "All right, all right. If the two of you want to spend hours in the cockpit together pretending like you don't want to tear each other's clothes off, that's up to you. Just like what I do with Canderous is up to me."

Months in Min's company had taught Bastila that this argument would not be won in a single conversation. Min's stubbornness was a stone wall blocking the bond, and Bastila could only hope that time would wear it down.

So she addressed her other, perhaps more pressing concern with Min's activities, despite the flush that spread across her face. "Then I suggest that we devote more time to making the bond more... private."

Min's shameless laughter was interrupted by a yawn. "Sure thing. But first I want food and a nap. I haven't had a decent meal or sleep in weeks."

"Of course," Bastila said. "I plan to meditate for a time in the cargo hold. You can join me there after you've rested." Min waved her agreement through another yawn as she walked out into the corridor.

Bastila followed. When they reached the main hold, Min headed toward the galley, but Bastila paused for a moment. The corridor to her right would lead her to the cargo hold, but she found herself contemplating the corridor to her left. She trusted Carth with the navigation of course, but with the mission at such a crucial juncture—only the Star Map on Manaan remained—surely it would be wise to check their position and offer her assistance with any calculations. Min would undoubtedly find the detour amusing, but that was because she did not understand the complexities of interstellar travel. And to avoid the pilot would suggest that Bastila did not trust her own self-control, which would serve as a poor example to Min. A Jedi should follow the proper course of action regardless of others' opinions or misconceptions.

Having successfully quashed her own flutter of doubt, Bastila turned to the left corridor and strode confidently to the cockpit.


	3. Playing with Fire

**_Playing with Fire_**

Min crept along the cool durasteel wall, sweat trickling down her back as the eerie keening and gibbering sounds echoed down the dim corridor. Across from her she could see Juhani tense up, the Cathar and Carth just silhouettes against the large permaglass windows that looked out on the inky waters of Hrakert Rift. She held her hand up, signaling for them to stop. Behind her she could hear the creak of Canderous's armor, and even though she didn't turn back to look, she knew he was crouching as he waited for her signal.

There was only one way to tell what was up ahead, and Min grit her teeth and did what she'd been dreading since their escape from the _Leviathan_. She opened herself up to the Force completely, wincing as her companions' emotions slammed into her senses. Juhani's quiet worry in and of itself would have been bad enough, but paired with the searing heat of Canderous's anger, it was like a slap in the face. Yet what really twisted the knife in her gut was that underneath his anger she could sense his stubborn loyalty or dedication or whatever it was, still as implacable and relentless as when he'd declared it.

Before the _Leviathian_, she would have accepted his words for the gifts that they were, but back then Min had been naïve enough to believe that she wouldn't be able to make it through their mission without the support of the people who cared for her. Now that she knew the truth, she didn't think she was going to make it through their mission unless her lover and her friends left her the hell alone.

Which was why she desperately focused on Carth's contempt. Its bitter tang was oddly comforting because, unlike the rest of her damn crew, he understood that she was a monster. Beneath his revulsion, she felt the mirror of her own fear-fear that Bastila was lost, that Min had cost him another woman he cared for, that Bastila would never know what he felt. Min shied away from his despair and wrapped her mind around his hate, using it as a shield to block Canderous and Juhani out, until she was able to focus on the Selkath down the hall and find out what she needed to know.

Min kept her voice low. "Over twenty, up ahead." She nodded at Juhani, making sure not to meet the Cathar's worried eyes. "We'll go in first; you two cover us."

They sprinted together down the hall, their speed enhanced by the Force, and were on top of the enemy before the Selkath even realized they were there. Min sent a blast of Force energy into the Selkath crowd, sending a pack of them sprawling across the room into the far wall. She ignited her lightsabers and the rest of the crowd charged. As the fight began in earnest, Min lost herself in the immediacy of the battle, her pain and despair temporarily scoured away by the surge of adrenaline.

She stepped out of the way of a pair of charging Selkath, letting them stumble past, knowing that Canderous and Carth would be right behind her. She skewered the next on one of her yellow lightsabers, using her other glowing blade to lop its head off.

More followed. She kicked one in the chest; it lurched backward into a mass of hands and arms and sharp teeth, and the air charged before she unleashed a surge of lightning on them. The stink of burning Selkath flesh filled the air as they dropped to the ground, shrieking and twitching.

Below their cries and just behind her, Min could hear a deep voice cursing in Mandalorian as Canderous rained insults and vented his anger on what he considered to be unworthy enemies. When another Selkath charged her despite the obvious danger, she sidestepped quickly, allowing its momentum to carry it straight toward his flashing blades. She moved toward a blast door on the opposite wall, away from the distraction of Canderous and toward where Carth crouched with his blaster behind a storage container, picking off targets with deadly accuracy.

She sliced through three more Selkath on the way, then scanned for further enemies but found none. Carth's blaster fire suddenly stopped and the odd silence that always followed a battle descended. Min stepped through the bodies, making sure they were all dead as Carth holstered his blasters and moved toward one of the dimly glowing terminals just on the other side of the blast door, frowning as he tried to make sense of the data on the screen. Canderous and Juhani moved in the opposite direction in a perimeter sweep.

While everyone's attention was focused elsewhere, Min took advantage of the opportunity, stepping through the blast door and triggering the closing mechanism. As the door hissed shut behind her, she focused on the control panel and called a surge of electricity, blowing the circuits underneath and trapping her with Carth.

* * *

It was the unexpected hiss of the blast door sliding shut across the room that caught Juhani's attention. Then a burst of Force energy prickled across her Jedi senses and the control panel blew apart. She sprinted over to the door, but it was too late; Revan and Captain Onasi were sealed in.

She laid her hand against the door, claws clicking against the durasteel as she cocked her head to the side. The Mandalorian strode over from the body he'd been examining, undoubtedly checking for valuables to confiscate. He jabbed at the control panel on their side as though it would somehow accomplish something and cursed when it did not. "What the hell's wrong with this thing?"

Bewildered, Juhani frowned, first at the door, then at the Mandaloraian. "Revan overloaded the panel. She is in there with Captain Onasi."

He stared at her for a moment, then fury ignited in the Force around him. His hands slid over the seam in the door as if he could open it with sheer brute strength. "Open it!" he snapped over his shoulder.

Caught off guard by his reaction, Juhani nearly took a step backward. She had always been intimidated by the large Mandalorian male, and even though she knew his anger was not directed at her, seeing him this furious was a reminder of how dangerous he could be.

Juhani called on her Jedi training and focused on the door despite the raging emotions from the humans on both sides of it. She lifted her hand and sent a surge of energy at the panels, trying to force them apart, but she quickly realized that she simply did not have the sheer power to separate the mass of durasteel, designed to contain explosions or flooding. The only person she knew that did was on the other side.

She shook her head. "It is too heavy. We will have to find another way in."

The Mandalorian slammed a large fist against the door, then drew his blade and stalked away. A long string of expletives in multiple languages followed him.

Taking one last look at the blast door, Juhani fell into step behind him, doing her best to keep calm, telling herself that Revan must have a purpose for what she had done, and trying not to be upset that Revan had abandoned her with the Mandalorian that she both feared and despised.

But as she walked, doubts crept in. Neither Revan nor Captain Onasi had been themselves since the _Leviathan_, and Revan's behavior had grown increasingly erratic since their escape. Juhani hadn't needed her Jedi senses to tell that something was horribly wrong with both the pilot and the Jedi-she'd been able to smell their anger and pain. She'd spent the last two weeks watching both people she deeply admired withdraw into themselves, not knowing how to help either one of them.

"I do not understand." Frustrated, she turned to the man she thought must know the answer and asked the question even though he was the last person on the crew with whom she wanted to talk. "Why would she do this?"

"Because she's a fracking idiot," he growled.

The patience that she'd worked so hard with Bastila to build frayed at his words as her Cathar temper got the better of her. "She's Revan and she's your mate. You should show more respect, Mandalorian."

At least she thought they were mates. Humans had such an astonishing variety of mating rituals that sometimes it was difficult to tell. When she had asked Bastila, the Jedi had turned a shade of pink and stammered that she was mistaken before giving her a lecture about Jedi and the danger of emotional attachments. Still, as much as she admired Bastila's wisdom, Juhani disagreed. Revan and the Mandalorian had hunted together and lain together for at least one moon cycle. On Cathar that would have made them mated for life, thus she considered it so, even though she found Revan's choice in mates both baffling and abhorrent.

He scowled at her without slowing down. "I don't respect anyone who runs and hides from their demons instead of facing them, Cathar."

The reminder of the shameful failure of her Jedi test stung, even though it came from the Mandalorian.

She jerked her chin up and flashed her fangs at him. "And I don't respect anyone who abandons their woman at the first sign of trouble."

He shook his head, and she could hear his teeth grinding together. "So you're stupid as well as a coward," he ground out. "I'm looking for another way around."

"I am not talking about right now," she snapped. "I am talking about how you abandoned her after the Leviathan."

Revan's mate began swearing again. "You think that was my choice?"

He turned a corner, and an enraged Selkath wielding a thick metal bar barreled down on them. The Mandalorian caught the bar on his blade. Juhani stepped forward instinctively and sliced through the Selkath. Ordo barely spared a glance for her or their attacker before moving on.

Two more Selkath raced mindlessly down the hall at them. Juhani's blue saber buzzed as she cut the one on her side down. It fell to the ground at the same time the Mandalorian's did. "I thought you cast her aside when you found out she was Revan," she said as she stepped over the Selkath's body.

"I'm a Mandalorian, not a Cathar." Gray eyes scanned each cross corridor they passed. "Go sharpen your claws on someone else."

As her temper spiked, Juhani knew that a real Jedi like Bastila would not retaliate, but she had been asked to tolerate this barbarian, who'd helped obliterate her homeworld, for months on end. She'd done it because Revan had asked her to and been able to maintain her calm with Bastila's help, but both women were now lost-one to Malak and one to a wound so deep that Juhani couldn't even begin to understand it.

Juhani's yellow eyes narrowed to slits. "Keep insulting my people and I will forget that you are Revan's mate."

"Save your threats," he spat. "I've got more important things to do."

"You must have done something to her then." Hope swelled in her chest as she snarled, "Or maybe she finally realized how unworthy you are."

The Mandalorian spun around to face her, his lips pulled back in an angry sneer. "You really want to do this now? 'Cause I've got a feeling Onasi thinks she's unworthy to live."

Juhani's shook her head. "Captain Onasi is a good man. They are friends. He is angry with her but he wouldn't..."

Except that Captain Onasi had a wound just as bad as Revan's. Worse, his grief smelled old, like it had festered for years, and now that his wound had been freshly ripped open Juhani wasn't so certain that the Mandalorian was wrong.

"Revan would never allow him to hurt her." She intended it as a statement, unwilling to believe that Revan would do such a thing, but the doubt crept into her voice as she realized that she couldn't be certain of that either.

"Oh, yeah? Then why'd she lock herself in with him? She thinks she deserves whatever he dishes out." The knuckles of the fist holding his weapon went white, and his pace quickened. "She's pissed because I still want her. Hell, I want her more, and she doesn't think she can live with that."

Juhani trotted alongside him in silence, digesting the Mandalorian's words, not wanting to believe them, but the surge of pheromones from him told Juhani he was not lying. "She is... not herself. And you…" She scowled at him; the bitter words stuck in her throat and came out as a growl. "…are doing what you should. I will help you."

Juhani reached out with her Force senses. It was not hard to find Revan's distinctive presence. She pointed down a corridor to her left. "They are this way."

* * *

Carth's head jerked up. "What the hell are you doing?" he snapped, meeting Min's eyes for the first time since the _Leviathan_. For the first time since she had dragged him away from the door that had sealed them off from Bastila and Malak.

Min felt Juhani's attention suddenly swing to her as well. No sound was audible through the blast door, but Min could tell Canderous had figured out what had happened by the white-hot flare of the Mandalorian's anger. But he couldn't reach her now, which gave her the freedom to do what she needed.

Min arched an eyebrow. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trapping us in."

"What?" he demanded. His expression warred between disbelief and rage. "What the hell for?"

She leaned back against the blast door and sighed her relief. "So you can kill me, of course."

He stormed past her to prod at the torn-open control panel, wincing when a shower of sparks covered his hand. "Open the fracking door, Revan," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"No."

He slammed his hand against the door, shaking his head in disbelief. "So that's it?" he replied. "Screw the galaxy and screw Bastila?"

"The way I see it, you'd be doing Bastila and the galaxy a big favor by killing me."

His eyes narrowed. "And what happens if I do, huh? What happens to your bondmate? Did you think of that?"

Min considered that problem for a moment. "She might feel some pain, but it will be nothing compared to what my apprentice has done to her already. A small price to pay for being free of one Sith Lord, don't you think?"

She could see his hands curl into fists when she mentioned Malak. "She won't see it that way." His tone was grudging, almost accusatory.

Min nodded at the blaster still maddeningly in its holster. "That's why she needs you to protect her."

He huffed a sarcastic laugh. "Didn't you once lecture me about not making decisions for her?"

"That was before I realized that she'd decided to save a dying Dark Lord and before she decided to sacrifice herself to Malak. I think my point about her judgment has been made." White teeth flashed against dark skin as she snarled, "So draw the fracking blaster, Carth."

He just continued to glare at her. "She did those things because she thinks we need you."

Frustration made her voice rise. "You don't need me anymore. You know where the last map is. All you have to do is go out there and get it."

"And then what?" he snapped bitterly. "I shoot Malak in the head? Jolee fights him? Or do you actually think that fracking you makes Ordo enough of a man to take him?"

Irritated that she had to spell it out for him, Min bit the words out slowly and deliberately. "And then the Fleet comes in and takes him and the Star Forge out." She dropped her arms and took a step forward. "You can hate me all you want, but I'm not going to listen to you disrespect Canderous like this."

"Right," Carth laughed. "Force forbid I should disrespect a man who murdered and pillaged and probably raped his way across the galaxy."

Min's hands clenched into fists. "Keep talking like that and I'm going to plant a left hook on that manly stubble of yours, flyboy. That is, unless you finally grow a pair and shoot me."

He shook his head, but his eyes never left her and his hand never strayed to his belt. "You'll defend a Mandalorian thug, but the woman who saved you twice... you're willing to let her die in a Fleet bombardment. Good thing you listened to all her lectures, huh?" he continued in a snarl. "If you'd gotten emotionally attached, you might actually have to think about something besides your own self-pity."

Guilt seared through her and Min's eyes burned with tears she didn't even know she had left because she realized thatCarth was right, about one thing at least; Bastila could die on the Star Forge. With the enclave at Dantooine gone, Min wasn't sure if there was even anyone else left to get her back. Still, she hated him for not pulling the trigger. She hated Bastila for sacrificing herself. Most of all she hated herself for wanting to charge across the room and give Onasi the excuse to fire the blaster shot that would give her the death she had been cheated out of twice. But Bastila was the closest thing she had to family and she deserved better than her bondmate taking the cheap and easy way out.

Canderous deserved better too. "Insult Canderous one more time, and I'll kick your ass into next week. That _Mandalorian thug_ took a grenade to his chest and almost died so our crew would have the chance to escape. He came back for us when the smart thing to do was run, and the only reason we're even standing here is because of him. So if you can't respect him the way that you should, then keep your banthashit to yourself."

Carth threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm talking about saving Bastila's life and stopping a war and you're worried about Ordo's _feelings_?"

"Screw you, Onasi," she spat. "I'm not going to let you talk shit about him anymore than I'd let you do it to anyone else on my crew. You wouldn't even have the chance to get her back if it weren't for him, but instead of giving him any credit for that, you're acting like a judgmental, ungrateful ass."

Carth turned on his heel, examined the room for a minute, then stalked to a small hatch at the other end. He jabbed at the control panel and cursed when nothing happened but an insistent beeping. "My issues with Ordo have nothing to do with you. We talk shit all the time. I can defend myself and so can he."

"And what about Bastila? Are you going to disrespect her when we get her back? Throw the fact that she's fallen in her face because she doesn't live up to your standards anymore? Congratulate yourself on never acting on your feelings with someone so imperfect and flawed as her?"

He stared back at her in silence for a long minute. Before, when they'd been friends, it had been easy to forget that he wasn't just a good shot and a loyal comrade. Now, staring him down, she could see the decorated hero, the commanding officer.

"You can't know that she's fallen," he said finally. He had the unique talent of the soldier-to believe something simply because he had to.

"I do know that." Between her own shattered memories of her time as a Dark Lord and glimpses of Bastila through the bond, it was an undeniable fact. "It's what happens to all captured Jedi-they either break or die. Malak isn't going to let her die. She's far too valuable for that."

Fear and grief, old and new, flooded her senses. "It should be you."

Min's chin jerked up as she glared at him. "Yeah? Tell me something I don't already know. Better yet, tell Bastila when she comes to kill us."

Carth paced away from her. His hand reached up to rake through his hair. "It can't be that easy," he muttered, half to himself. He turned back to Min. "She can't just... people don't change like that!" he insisted. "Not that fast. We still have time."

"Malak's had her for two weeks. He'll isolate her, torture her, and prey on every single one of her weaknesses and fears and then he'll offer her a choice: to take the power he's offering or be tormented more. Bastila's going to take it, if she hasn't already."

"She'll fight him," he declared stubbornly.

Min's tone turned sharp. "And she'll lose. You pretending otherwise isn't going to change that. It's just going to get you killed."

"What else do I do?" he snapped. "Accept that she's gone?" He shook his head. "I won't. I didn't give up on Dustil; I'm not giving up on her."

"I'm not asking you to give up on her! I'm asking you to go in with your eyes open so that you understand what you're dealing with."

Carth glanced toward the small observation window in the wall. This side of the compound wasn't illuminated; there was nothing but black. "We've run into fallen Jedi before."

"You don't get it! Bastila isn't one of those kids on Korriban or Juhani hiding in a cave. She's much more powerful and dangerous and she'll be Malak's _apprentice_."

He rounded on her. "I know, all right?" he shouted. "That Bandon asshole nearly took my head off, and if he'd had _one-tenth_ of Bastila's power, I'd probably be dead!" He threw his arms wide in exasperation. "But what am I supposed to do, Min? Run from her? Let down one more person in my life?"

She pointed at his chest. "You're supposed to face her with me and help me talk her out of this madness and if that doesn't work, you're supposed to help me capture her so we can take her to what's left of the Council so they can help her."

"Help her?" he snorted. "Like they helped you?"

The admission was grudging but she had to give the Council their due. "I'm not out there trying to conquer the galaxy anymore, so they at least did one thing right." She wondered when the Council had finally gotten the guts to do something like that. "But if you have a better idea, flyboy, spit it out."

"I'm not letting them erase her," he insisted, slicing his hand through the air between them. "We don't need them. We can bring her back."

"Then you'd better step up and give her a reason to come back because I don't think the fact that Revan wants her to will be enough."

Determination set his jaw and gave his brown eyes a cast she remembered from Korriban. "I'll give her every reason I can."

"Good," she said. For the first time since the _Leviathan_ the burning ache in her chest eased a bit and she began to believe that it might actually be possible to get her bondmate back. She swallowed the lump in her throat, straightened her shoulders, and turned toward the small hatch. A wave of her hand and the door slid open, groaning as she forced it backward against the locking mechanism.

"Let's go get the map."

* * *

Juhani's boot slammed into the face of the Selkath that was trying to gnaw off her leg. It landed with a satisfying crunch that she barely had the time to appreciate before another grabbed her from behind, wrapping its arm around her neck. It gibbered and drooled and hissed in her ear as it choked off her air, while a third Selkath launched itself at her face. A swipe of her blue blade and it crumpled on the ground at her feet.

But she couldn't shake the Selkath off her back. Juhani clawed at its arm and spots swam in her vision as she grasped desperately for the Force, trying to focus through the pain and exhaustion and fear.

And then she heard the swish of a blade slicing through the Selkath's rubbery skin. It let her go with a high-pitched shriek that nearly made her ears bleed. She turned around just in time to see the Mandalorian cut its throat.

Juhani rubbed her neck and looked down at the pile of broken bodies at their feet.

She croaked out a grudging, "Thank you," in between hacking coughs.

"We need to keep moving" was his only reply. Blood welled from a long gash above his right eye.

She nodded, caught her breath, and started toward the dark corridor at the other end of the room. "They're close. Just down here."

They moved quickly underneath the flickering emergency lights, sloshing through ankle deep water, as Juhani focused on using the Force to ease the sting of the bruises around her neck and stop the flow of blood from the wound over the Mandalorian's eye. It was tricky work. Juhani was much better at using the Force for fighting than she was at healing wounds. Making it more difficult was that she was trying to do it without touching him. Not only did neither of them want to take the time to stop, but the idea of putting her hand on the Mandalorian's skin made her fur bristle.

So she was still focused on trying to heal the gash when the door at the end slid open, revealing Captain Onasi pacing in a small control room, but no Revan. The pilot stopped and turned to them as they entered, a grim expression on his face. For a moment, she panicked, afraid that the pilot might have given into his anger until her focus snapped to Revan's presence out just beyond the large airlock.

The Mandalorian, of course, had no such awareness. "Where is she?" he barked.

Captain Onasi jerked a thumb toward the large glass observation window overlooking the dark waters. "She went to get the Star Map."

"By herself?" Juhani frowned out at the water that they knew from the Republic intel was full of firaxan sharks. She could sense them out there, gliding through the water, along with a bigger, older, more powerful consciousness that was curious about the figure in the deep sea suit, but not hostile, at least yet.

Ordo stepped toward the pilot, brandishing his blade. "You couldn't grow balls enough to back her up?"

Captain Onasi waved him off. "There was only one suit, asshole." He began pacing again, his hands never straying far from his blasters. Juhani had the impression it was an unconscious manifestation of agitation, rather than out of any real expectation of violence.

The Mandalorian glared at him a moment longer, then he abandoned the argument as well and turned to Juhani. "Will those lightsabers of hers work underwater?" he asked.

"No," she said softly. She wasn't very optimistic about the effectiveness of Revan's other very formidable Force powers. The lightning Revan sometimes called was most certainly useless and her telekinetic abilities would be limited as well. Still she felt compelled to offer words of reassurance, more for herself than him. "But she has been out there once before and made it back."

The minutes dragged as they waited, and Juhani, tired of pacing, sat down at one of the consoles and started to examine it, desperate for something to take her mind of the stink of fear and anger that seemed to get stronger with every second. After a bit of fiddling, she managed to reroute the console to the backup power supply, and the screen flickered to life.

Pleased, Juhani flicked on the comm and started searching through the jumble of frequencies, static, and white noise, hoping to find one that would connect to the comm on the pressure suit that Revan was wearing.

But a surge of energy from outside on the ocean floor jerked her attention to the large viewing window. She saw the muted explosion in the distance, the orange and red glow against the inky black waters, and then the shockwave hit, strong enough to rattle the duraglass and make the emergency lights flicker.

The Mandalorian's fear stung her nostrils. "What the hell was that?" he snapped. Both men peered through the window, hands at their weapons, in remarkably similar postures of battle readiness.

Juhani frantically began to punch through the codes as she stretched her senses, trying to determine whether Revan was still alive.

"Revan, are you there?" she repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Finally through the crackling static came an annoyed and familiar voice. "Dammit, Juhani. How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?"

"What the hell was that?" the Mandalorian demanded again.

"The kolto harvester. I had to blow it up so the giant firaxan shark would go away. I'll explain later." Juhani fiddled with the controls to cut out some of the static. She managed to get rid of most of the interference, but Revan's voice was still distant and muffled like it was smothered by fathoms of inky dark water.

"Juhani, see if you can find a way to contact the Republic base. Let them know there's a pair of survivors in the outer bunkers that need a pick up."

Juhani's fingers flew over the console as she started working on getting communications to the surface up and running. "And the Star Map?"

"Almost there. Now that the big damn shark is gone, I can get to it. I'll be back shortly."

Satisfied that Revan was in no immediate danger, Juhani shot a look over at Revan's mate and gestured toward the console. Ordo waved her off impatiently, turning back to the window without a word to her or Revan. The scent of his anger had again overpowered his fear.

Juhani frowned at the Mandalorian's back, turned to the comm, and spoke in her native language. It was thick on her tongue because she didn't practice it nearly enough, but what she had to say to Revan, she wanted to say in private and she knew neither the Mandalorian nor the pilot would speak it.

But Revan would. Juhani was always surprised at Revan's eerie ability to pick up different languages. The number of languages Revan knew was truly astonishing-from Mandalorian to Shyriiwook to the nonsensical gibberings of the Jawas on Tatooine.

She crossed her arms and glared at the comm as though Revan would be able to see her disapproval and disappointment over the airwaves. "You should not have gone off on your own. That was reckless."

Revan gave the same terse reason that Captain Onasi had given, except this time in Catharese. "There was only one suit."

"Why didn't you wait until we caught up with you? We could have gotten the communications going first. Then we would have known you were safe when we saw that explosion!"

"You know I'm safe now."

Juhani's temper made her voice rise with each passing word. "Oh, yes. _After_ spending over an hour fighting through hordes of insane Selkath to get to you while wondering if Captain Onasi had killed you, and _after_ discovering that you had already gone out on the ocean floor amongst the sharks and _after_ a large mysterious explosion, _then_ we knew you were safe!"

Revan did not say anything to that. Cold silence fell over the comm for over a minute as Juhani tried to focus and get her temper under control, reminding herself that Revan's pain was making her act this foolishly.

When Revan spoke in basic, she was all business. "I've got the coordinates. Sending them to you now."

Juhani automatically recorded them, not paying any real attention to the data that scrawled across the screen. Instead she studied the Mandalorian she despised and shook her head. Revan clearly wanted the conversation to be over, but frustration got the better of Juhani, making her push again in her native tongue. "I am your friend. He is your mate. And you have treated us both poorly."

Revan made an astonishing choking sound. She sputtered out in basic, "He's not-" before switching to Catharese and hissing, "He's not my mate! And why are you defending him? He's a fracking Mandalorian."

Juhani crossed her arms and patiently explained how under Cathar tradition she and the Mandalorian were life mates. "It is true that I do not approve of your choice," she added. "But you chose him and he is trying to protect you. And your behavior to him is... shameful."

Juhani flinched as she said the word. Revan was someone she deeply respected. To take the Mandalorian's side was almost unthinkable, but Juhani had also not thought Revan capable of this kind of cruelty and indifference toward the man she'd taken as her own.

Revan's bitter laughter filled the room, and Juhani blinked in shock, unprepared for such a reaction. "Well, if that's what makes a mate, then I already have one. At least until I reach the Star Forge and kill him."

Juhani sat back in her chair and let out a soft breath. "Malak. You're talking about Malak, aren't you?" And her frustration dissolved somewhat as she realized that this must be affecting Revan deeply. "Then the rumors were true."

When Revan didn't answer, Juhani took Revan's silence as an affirmative. In the viewing window, Revan materialized out of the darkness and headed toward the airlock.

"Malak gave up the right to be your mate when he tried to kill you," Juhani decided. "The Mandalorian has a superior claim."

Revan's wry and weary tone came through the comm. "That's great, Juhani. Very comforting."

"I do not understand then. Unless you are upset because he was once your enemy." Now that was something Juhani could understand. Perhaps Revan had finally remembered the worlds the Mandalorians had butchered.

But her hopes were dashed when Revan said, "No. That's not-" She broke off and snapped, "I'm not going to talk about it. Just focus on the mission and get the damn comm patched through to the surface."

Juhani's fur bristled. She turned back to the comm and began working again, shoving her smarting feelings aside, trying to focus on her work. "As you wish, Revan."

The buzzing and blinking lights from the airlock told her that Revan had accessed the airlock from the outside. "And why the hell do you keep calling me that?"

Juhani patched through to the Republic, sending text since the long distance vocal transmitters were down, letting them know that they'd reclaimed the base. "Because that is the name you had when you saved me from slavery. That is the name you had when you inspired me to seek out the Jedi. That is the name you used when you avenged my people. I use it to remind you that not everything you did was bad."

She expected Revan to snap at her again, to demand that she stop using that name, but instead she felt a surge of pain and grief from Revan as her friend cut the comm. When Revan emerged a few minutes later, she didn't meet the Cathar's gaze but Juhani could see her red-rimmed eyes. Revan didn't break stride as she said in basic, "Let's go."

The Mandalorian followed her. The mated pair moved in easy tandem-keeping the same pace, scanning for threats, watching each other's backs-all while managing to completely ignore each other. Juhani fell into formation a few paces behind them next to Captain Onasi, and the four of them lapsed into silence.

At least the Mandalorian had been wrong about the pilot. Revan was more or less unharmed and it was reassuring to know that the Captain was as good of a man as she had thought. While Juhani could still smell his wounds, she could sense his renewed stubborn determination, similar to what she'd first sensed from him on Korriban when they were rescuing his young one.

But Revan herself was still deeply wounded; Juhani could smell the stench of her pain and fear. She was at a complete loss as to how to help the woman she admired. For now, she decided that she would have to be patient and trust in the will of the Force.

With nothing else to do, Juhani squared her shoulders, focused on the mission, and followed the others out of the depths of Hrakert Rift.


	4. Getting Burned

_**Getting Burned**_

Canderous threw the polishing rag to the floor with a muttered curse. Fracking Selkath and their fracking underwater base. Maybe once it had been watertight, but with the Selkath losing their shit and attacking even the airlocks and seals, they'd encountered more than their share of leaks and flooding. With every drip down the back of his neck, he could practically feel the metal underpinnings of his armor rusting away. There was no way he could reach every crease with a rag. It was almost as bad as Dxun.

He sat back from the workbench to survey the pieces of disassembled armor that covered its surface. There'd been only one way to dry armor on Dxun.

He got up and went to the large maintenance storage bin at the rear of the swoop hangar. He dug around inside until he found a large flat sheet of spare scrap. He tossed it to the deck, then pulled four of the smaller containers into a square around it. Kindling wasn't a problem; Onasi kept a pile of rags for routine repairs. Canderous scooped up the entire pile and dropped it inside the square. Then he plucked the cigarra from between his clenched teeth and dropped that on top of the pile. By the time he'd arranged the scattered pieces of his armor on three of the containers, the fire was burning with strength. The rags were a thick, tough weave. They wouldn't burn forever but long enough.

He had just straddled the fourth container, starting to feel warm for the first time since they'd landed on Manaan, when pounding footsteps and frantic beeping told him he was about to have company.

The door swished open and Revan barreled through at nearly full speed, her bare feet slapping against the deck until she stumbled to a halt in the middle of the hangar. She gaped at both him and his fire, mouth open, dark eyes wide as the look on her face flashed from panic to disbelief to fury.

"What the hell, Ordo?"

Her demand was echoed in an outraged whistle as little bolt bucket rolled into the room behind her.

There were the first words she'd spoken to him in days. He pulled the pack of cigarras from his pocket, placed one between his lips, then leaned over to light it. "Problem, Revan?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared over the flames at him. "Why are you setting fires on my ship? Are you trying to kill us all or just set off the fire suppression system?"

"I disabled that system in here back on Dantooine. Damn thing wouldn't let me smoke in peace." Given that he'd gotten a faceful of suppression foam, she should be glad he hadn't disabled it with his repeater.

An angry series of shrieks and beeps came from Revan's droid as it rocked back and forth on its chassis, its photoreceptor gleaming at Canderous.

Revan threw her hands up. "Yeah I know, Tee. He's a fracking moron." She turned back to Canderous and continued shouting. "Do you realize that you just took ten years off my life? I thought you were in here with an electrical fire! I swear, if any of my hair turns gray because of you, I'm going to kick your Mandalorian ass!"

He hadn't thought about pissing her off when he set the fire. But sometimes when you went after your primary target, you took out secondary objectives along the way.

"Could have been worse," he spat in a puff of smoke. "I could have been in here with a homicidal pilot."

He could tell that his words hit their mark by the way her lips thinned and she resorted to a diversionary strike. "You'll get your chance once he finds out what you've done to the ship," she snapped back. "Onasi is going to have a litter of kinrath pups when he sees this."

Canderous snorted. "Yeah? And what doesn't make Onasi have a litter of kinrath pups?"

The droid spat out a bunch of gibberish at Revan. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "No, it's the middle of the sleep cycle. Don't wake Carth up. Go ahead and go back to running your diagnostics. I'll take care of…" She pulled a face as she gestured toward the fire. "… _this_."

T3 pivoted his photoreceptor at Canderous one more time before making a long low whistle and rolling out the door.

"What kind of banthashit is this, Canderous? You didn't think I had enough problems so you decided to set my ship on fire?"

He rose from the container, flicking the cigarra into the flames. "I know you'll find this hard to believe, but this is one of those rare things in the galaxy that's not about you."

"If you hadn't noticed, we're on our way to the Star Forge. This crew does not need idiot Mandalorian shenanigans that cause damage to the ship and tick off the pilot."

Canderous snatched up his breastplate and carried it to the workbench in white-knuckled hands. If he'd been carrying anything else, he would have slammed it down. Instead he set the heart of his armor down carefully before sitting. "You care so much about Onasi's feelings, go frack him. I have work to do."

"What the hell are you talking about?" There was the swish of silk nightclothes as she stalked toward him. She rounded the corner of the bench and glared. "You know it's not like that between him and me. I need him to get Bastila back. It would help if he wasn't ticked off at you for a change because I need you too."

He bent over to retrieve the tool kit from his pack and let the bench hide how his jaw clenched. Straightening he pulled a file from the kit. The other tools clattered onto the work surface with the tinny clanks of metal on metal. "I'm not your dog, Revan. I don't come when you call."

The file flew out of his fingers and hit the far wall so hard that the metal shattered.

"I've done a lot of terrible and shitty things in my life, but I've never treated you like that!"

A surge of molten fury propelled him to his feet. The stool he'd pulled up to the bench banged to the deck like a blaster shot. "You _need_ me?" he roared. "Then why the _frack_ was I baby-sitting the Cathar while you handed your honor to him? The honor of the woman who defeated the combined Mandalorian Clans, the honor of the woman who killed _Mandalore_, and you _gave_ it to a whiny Republic pilot!"

"Because he's my friend and I destroyed his life! He deserved the chance to take me out. I owe him that much."

"And would you have fought back?" he snarled. "Defended yourself? Or did you beg him to kill you?"

Her chin jerked up. "I didn't beg. And no, I wouldn't have defended myself because I wanted him to kill me."

It was what he'd known was happening behind that blast door, but another tide of rage flooded his veins. He cursed again that the only thing near to hand was his armor—the one thing he'd never willingly destroy. He'd destroyed his first armor at the command of the woman standing in front of him, when she'd killed Mandalore and left the Clans leaderless and scattered.

His hands curled into fists, and he seriously considered using them. "He's not worthy!" he shouted when the rage would allow him to speak. "The only one who deserves your life is the one who can take it from you! The Jedi couldn't. Malak couldn't. But you were going to let_ Onasi_ take it?"

"Not worthy?" she choked out. "My life is worth _nothing_! I have no honor. I lost it when I fell to the Dark Side and became a murderer, a traitor, a torturer ,and a war criminal. When I destroyed the people who loved me." Revan gestured toward the door. "Onasi is the only one on this fracking crew that gets what a monster I am. That's why I asked him."

"And who's next, Revan?" he growled. "Bastila? Malak? Gonna let your old lover have another crack at you?"

Her eyes went wide and for a few seconds she just stared at him. "I..." Her voice cracked. "How did you know about him?"

"You think I don't know the Cathar word for 'Mandalorian'?" He knew the word in dozens of languages; it had been howled or shouted or screamed at him on sun-drenched battlefields, in back-room bars, over crackling comms. "You and Juhani had a nice talk about me on Manaan." And then Revan had mentioned Malak. The context had been clear enough from the Cathar's reaction.

Her anger returned as she crossed her arms and glared up at him. "What the hell did you say to her? How did you get her to take your fracking side?"

He crossed his arms right back at her. "All I had to tell her was the truth."

"And what truth would that be?" she demanded.

"The one where you hide like a coward from everyone loyal to you," he shot back.

She flung her arms wide. "What am I supposed to do? Accept it? Pretend like I wasn't a murdering bitch? I don't deserve their loyalty and I don't deserve yours."

He stabbed a finger at her. "I never once regretted the losses I endured at your hands. They were good losses, honorable losses. But now... seeing you so ashamed of your victories... for the first time in my life, you've made me ashamed of my defeats."

Her spine stiffened, her shoulders straightened, and she looked him square in the eye. "This has nothing to do with me defeating your people. You picked a fight with us. I kicked your asses. I'm not sorry about it, I don't feel guilty about it, and I'm not ashamed of it. End of fracking story."

It's after I fell that I can't live with! You think Light Side or Dark Side doesn't matter—that victories are all the same. But it matters, Canderous. Honor and glory don't exist on the Dark Side except as tools to manipulate those that believe in them."

He knew what she meant. From the second they'd stepped foot inside that academy on Korriban, the plotting had been thicker than the blood on the torture cages. Some young blonde thing had even tried to seduce him in a dark hallway, convince him to protect her and betray Min in exchange for a younger and more exciting partner. She'd gotten a long laugh and a split lip for her trouble.

But none of that changed what had happened down on Manaan. The only reason she was there to have this argument was Onasi refusing the easy kill, and that only fueled his anger.

"Then fight back!" he shouted. "Fight to restore your honor. Don't slink off to die before you've lost."

"You're right, okay? I shouldn't have pushed Carth to kill me, but I just wanted to stop hurting!" She turned away for a moment and closed her eyes. When she turned back she didn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to make things right by going after Bastila and finishing this damn mission."

There was pain there, he knew there was, but it still galled him that she had turned to someone else to take it away. "And will you kill her if you have to?" he pushed. "And Malak? You've fracked them over too, but that doesn't mean you should let them win."

"Killing Bastila is _not_ an option. If I can't talk her into coming back, I'll kick her ass and take her to the Council. And as for Mal..." Her voice grew thick. "I think he's too far gone. I'll take him down if I can."

He wanted to shake her, to hit her, but he settled for slamming his fist down on the workbench. His breastplate rattled with the impact. "You sure as hell can't if you don't want to live! You don't want to come to me, you don't want to live for me, fine, I'll be one more you fracked over. But I'll be dead before I watch you let that asshole kill you."

"You think that I... That's not... You can't..." She looked up at the ceiling and blinked away her tears before looking back at him. "I didn't come to you because you make me want to live, Canderous. I want you so fracking badly that I can't trust myself to do the right thing and let you go."

He had not been a young man when they'd begun the campaign against the Republic. He had thought he knew himself—his rage, his passion. Then she had entered the war. From that point, every battle he waged, every avenue of conquest and victory he pursued, she'd been there. Her troops, her fleet, met him at every turn with an unwavering tactical brilliance that had filled him with frustrated fury and an admiration bordering on lust.

On Taris he had met a smart-mouth rich girl that simultaneously aggravated and attracted him. On Korriban he became her lover. After the _Leviathan_, he had learned that the two people in the galaxy who most enraged and enticed him were the same woman.

But none of that came within a system of the rage and lust that burned through him now.

"What fracked-up part of your Jedi-fracked brain came up with that banthashit?" he bellowed.

"The part that wants to protect you in case I fall, dammit! Do you even realize what I would do to you? Darth Revan doesn't have lovers or friends or comrades-in-arms—she has tools. And if her tools happen to fail or tick her off one day or just become inconvenient to have around, she crushes their jaw and makes them crawl and beg for their life!

"That's how it would end. Eventually, I would decide you were a liability, despite your loyalty and everything else you've given me. There would be no glorious battle to the death for you. I would strip you of your honor, of your pride, and I would put you down like a dog, just because I could."

She pointed at his chest. "You are everything that you should be. You are honorable and strong and proud and intelligent, and I don't want to be the one who crushes that out of you, just because you happen to be the unlucky bastard that I fell in love with."

A part of him swelled with smug pride at hearing her say the words. But the rest of him wanted to smack her for thinking she could take it away.

"Too bad," he spat.

"What?" she snapped back.

"Too fracking bad." He flung his arms wide. "It's too late, Revan. I'm yours. You think you can cut me loose? You'll have to kill me. Because I will follow you. I will hunt you to the edge of the galaxy and beyond."

He folded his arms over his chest again. "So shove your overprotective banthashit up your ass and let me worry about whether you'll try to maim me one day. And good fracking luck with that, by the way. If you think I'm as soft as some Jedi punkass like Malak, you're in for a rude awakening."

"Stubborn, idiot, boneheaded Mandalorian!" She stared at him in obvious dismay. "What the hell am I going to do about you?"

He could give the stirring speech when he had to, but he preferred taking action. He reached out and grabbed handfuls of silk, pulling her against him and crushing his mouth onto hers. His hands roved over the smooth material, then burrowed for the hot skin underneath. He poured out all the frustration of too many lonely nights on a cold ship.

Any protest she made dissolved into a moan as she kissed him back just as fiercely. She tugged his shirt out of his trousers, and then her long slender fingers were on his chest. When her hands found his newest scars, she froze and broke the kiss.

Her hands shook as she pulled his shirt up further until she could see the scars left by the grenade he'd held to his chest during their capture by the _Leviathan_.

"Frack." She looked up at him, her dark eyes searching his face. "You'd really do it, wouldn't you? You'd take on Malak to protect me. You'd follow me to the end of the galaxy."

"Didn't I just say that?" he groused. He tightened his grip around her, determined that she wouldn't escape again. "Didn't I say it after we got off that ship? I'm your man, Revan. Until the end."

She'd earned his loyalty a hundred times over in dozens of battles on dozens of worlds, and he'd declare it with his last breath. Whether she wanted it or not.

Revan put the palm of her hand over the starburst pattern of bumps and ridges on his chest. "You can't fight every battle with me. When I go up against Malak, I have to do it alone. I need your word that you won't interfere."

"I can handle Malak," he growled. Malak had the Republic by the throat, but he'd let them get away more than once. Which meant he was sloppy or stupid. Probably both.

Her fingernails bit into his skin. "This isn't about your skill. I made him what he is. I have to face him and I have to end this, one way or another."

He grabbed her wrist. An honor kill he could understand, but only if he was sure that was what this was. "There's only one way. You kill him and you walk away."

Grief twisted her face as she nodded her agreement in silence.

Canderous didn't have much experience offering comfort, but he slid his hand up to cover hers, pressing her palm flat against his chest. "You remember him?"

She sighed softly. "Bits and pieces. Enough to know he deserved better than this. If I'd made a different decision that day, if I had sent him after Bastila the way that I planned instead of following an impulse and going after her myself, he'd be the one on this crew getting a second chance."

"Only a fool looks back when there are enemies in front, and you know it." The hand at her waist curled around her to her hip, and he held her more tightly against his body. "If you had sent him to fight her, he would have killed her. Or she would have killed him. And in the end, you would have killed whoever was left standing. However it played out, they'd both be dead. Instead, you can save her." He understood the strategic importance of Shan, but more than that was the bond. The Jedi princess was a pain in the ass, but she was Revan's Clan.

Under his hands he could feel some of the tension leave her slender body. "And I would have never met you," she murmured as she looked up at him. "There's a lot I don't remember, but I think it's safe to say that I never thought I'd be standing here with a Mandalorian general."

"Your Force has a sense of irony." He wasn't sure he believed it, an energy that bound him to the universe. But the things he'd seen her and the others do, the way he was with her now... he didn't know how to explain it. Then again, he didn't feel the need to the way the Jedi and even the Sith did.

"Or maybe a sense of justice for sending me a man who's as big of a pain in the ass as I am," she muttered.

He snorted. "You're dreaming, Revan. I was a pain in the ass long before your father laid eyes on your mother."

"I don't think I've ever met anyone as relentless as you," she conceded as she shook her head and sighed her defeat. Revan rested her forehead against his chest, her black curls brushing the underside of his jaw. She lapsed into silence for awhile. When she finally looked up, her cheeks were wet and her voice was thick.

"Until the end, then."

The words were part of a ritual vow, one he didn't think she knew, one he never thought he'd partake in. When he'd spoken them to her before, he'd meant them; he knew he'd give his life and his honor to this woman as well as his loyalty. But as she said the words, he was acutely aware of the fire burning beside them, of her hand pressed over his heart in the old way. For the second time, he wondered about the sense of irony in her Force.

His hand continued to hold her palm against his chest as his other hand slid from her waist and settled over her own heart.

"Until the end," he vowed.

Revan covered his hand with trembling fingers for a moment, pressing his hand into her soft brown skin before reaching up and touching his face. She pulled him down, her lips brushing against his as she breathed his name.

His lips trailed through her tears to her ear. He might not have the Force, but he knew her well enough to know why she trembled. "Your enemies will fall, by your blade or mine," he murmured in Mandalorian. "This is not the end."

"I want you to be right."

"Then fight," he demanded. He pulled back to look down into her dark eyes, looking for something harder to replace the tears there. "Defend. Do whatever it takes to keep what is yours."

He found it when she brushed away her tears with her knuckles. Underneath was the look she'd had on her face the first time he saw her in the Taris Underground, fighting off a band of rakghouls. He'd seen it countless times since then, on every planet they traveled, and before every single battle—be it against crime bosses, angry natives, bounty hunters, and even Sith Apprentices and their Masters.

"I will." She jerked her chin up. "You don't get off the hook that easily."

The wet chill of Manaan receded as the woman he'd pledged himself to finally looked back at him from behind those eyes. "Don't hide from me again," he told her.

She spread her hands in surrender and sighed. "Your point has been made."

"Good," he murmured as his hands went back to important business of removing her clothes. The fire wouldn't last, and this was part of the ritual too. A part he fully intended to honor. "Don't be such a stubborn bitch next time."

She arched an eyebrow. "Is my lecture over now?" she asked as silk slid to the floor. "Or are you going to stand there and gripe like an old woman all night long?"

He cut off further conversation with a growl and his mouth on hers. For now the battle was over. He wasn't fool enough or naïve enough to believe he'd won the war. She would fight herself—and him—for years, maybe the rest of her life. But for now she would live. For now she was his. So for now he would fulfill his vow and celebrate his victory.


	5. Firestorm

_**Firestorm**_

Min barely noticed as the last battle droid squawked and died at her feet, exploding in a shower of white sparks. Her attention was focused ahead at the two presences that blazed in her Jedi senses: Bastila and Malak. Malak was farther away, deep in the bowels of the Star Forge's command center, but her bondmate was close. Bastila was waiting for them right behind the next door.

Min turned to face the others. Canderous slung his repeater over one broad shoulder while Jolee simply folded his hands and waited, but they weren't the ones that she needed now.

She met Carth's brown eyes and said, "This is it, flyboy. Are you ready?"

His eyes widened a fraction, and he visibly swallowed as he holstered his blasters. When he looked up again, his jaw was set. "I…" he started to say, then his mouth snapped shut and he nodded, once.

She hit the control panel and the door slid open, revealing Bastila kneeling in a meditative position on the floor, but it was the giant holoscreen behind her that caught Min's attention.

Memories slammed into her, of standing in front of countless holoscreens just like this as both a Jedi and a Sith, watching battle after battle unfold. Suddenly they weren't just small flickering lights on a holo—she could see the battle lines moving in her mind, she knew the tactics they were using, she knew the decisions that were being made. And from this knowledge, from this skill she didn't realize she still had, one fact crystallized in her mind.

The battle was close, but the Republic was going to lose.

"Oh, shit," she breathed.

"No!" Carth cried behind her, and she knew he'd seen what she had.

Bastila turned her head slightly toward them, and in the dim light from the holoscreen Min could see a slight smile cross her lips. "Welcome, Revan," she said. "Have you reconsidered my offer?"

Min swallowed hard. She really didn't want to think about the offer Bastila had made on the top of the Rakatan temple. Not with what she was seeing on that holoscreen. Not here with broken memories of old fury and past victories. Not where she could still taste the triumph of crushing her enemies on her tongue.

So she lifted her chin and said, "Have you reconsidered mine?"

Bastila rose smoothly, the hilt of her lightstaff dangling from one hand. "You mean the offer where I return to my role as tool of the Jedi? Perhaps as a prisoner this time, without even the illlusion of my own will?"

Min's hand slashed though the air. "Not the Jedi. Us. You come back to us voluntarily, or I will kick your ass and drag you to the _Hawk_ by your hair."

Bastila clucked her tongue and shook her head with an expression of mock despair. "Those are not the words of a Jedi, Revan. The Council would be so disappointed."

"If there's anything left of them now. But then Mal took care of that when he wiped out the enclave on Dantooine. He probably killed everyone that you ever cared about in the Order."

Whatever else Malak had done to Bastila, he'd broken her control. The careful wall that hid her emotions was cracked and pitted, and a sharp stab of pain burst through at Min's words, though her face showed only haughty disdain. "And in one maneuver he managed to do what the Jedi could not—release me from my past, from the chains that would bind my power. The Dark Side has set me free."

Min remembered the way the Dark Side had soared through her veins, the way the sheer power of it seemed to make the impossible possible, the wielder invincible even as it destroyed everything that it touched. But even though she knew Bastila was wrong, there was a part of her that desperately wanted to taste that intoxicating power—to feel free from everything and everyone just one more time.

So she did her best to focus on the hard, cold reality—that the freedom Bastila spoke of was a lie. "Free? Really? Is that's why you call Malak master then?"

Bastila waved a hand impatiently. "It is simply a title. Nothing more. As you well know. In time I will challenge him." Eagerness glowed from her blue eyes and the bond. "Join me and that time is now. We will repay him for the injuries and indignities he has inflicted upon us."

"And what then? How long do you think it will take before we turned on each other? A week? A month? A year?"

"You don't know that." Bastila took a step toward her. "Min, you and I are the strongest Force users in generations. Bonded we are something this galaxy has never seen. Beyond Jedi. Beyond Sith." She gestured to the clanking machinery and arcs of electricity that crackled around them. "With this power, we can do what the Jedi will never accomplish, not in a thousand lifetimes. We can end this war, end this pointless nattering over light and dark and bring a final peace. You and I could remake the galaxy as we see fit."

On the top of the Rakatan temple it had been easy to refuse; there Bastila's words were just words. But standing here, looking at the holo in front of her, it was much more difficult to resist the power her bondmate was offering. Because Min realized that she could win. That using Bastila's battle meditation and Min's tactical knowledge through the bond, together they could destroy the already weakened Republic Fleet. After that it would simply be a matter of killing Malak and she'd have control of the empire she'd started to build four years earlier.

Carth stepped forward until Min could see him from the corner of her eye. "Bastila, you don't... you _can't _want this."

Bastila brushed her hand in an imperious gesture, and Carth flew through the air. He slammed into a metal beam with a grunt, then dropped to the floor on his hands and knees, panting to regain his breath. Behind her Min heard the whine of a repeater heating up, but there was no glow of a lightsaber from either Jolee behind her or Bastila in front.

Bastila sneered. "I suggest you keep your Mandalorian on his leash, Revan. You may keep him if you wish, but I will brook his impertinence no longer." Min could practically hear Canderous gnashing his teeth, but thankfully he remained silent.

"What about him?" Min nodded to Carth. "Are you going to keep him on a leash too or just kill him?"

Bastila's eyes never left Min. "No, he is much too valuable to kill. He will provide us with information. Voluntarily or not."

"And when Carth stops being valuable? After you torture him into betraying everything that he cares about the same way that Malak tortured you? Are you going put your lightsaber through his heart?"

Bastila frowned. "I'm sure it will not come to that. He will understand in time, and then he will lead our Fleet to a lasting victory."

"No." Carth's voice was still a little breathless as he staggered to his feet. He straightened, pulling his jacket back into position. "I won't. You'll have to kill me."

Bastila turned to look at him then, and beneath her rage and disdain, Min felt a sudden twist of grief. "So be it," she said quietly.

When she turned back to Min, her face had lost its haughty expression and had almost regained the serious intensity of the Jedi she had been. "But you are not so short-sighted, Revan. What you began, what you could continue... your vision for the galaxy was a thing of brilliance. Of beauty. You need only reach out your hand, and your dream becomes reality. Never again will the Republic be threatened by barbarians." She threw a sneer at Canderous. "Never again will the aging, bickering Senate weaken us. We will stand strong, united under your banner. The banner of the true Dark Lord."

A long silence stretched as Min looked at her bondmate, knowing that not long ago she would have done anything, sacrificed anyone to get to this moment.

She didn't expect to still want the power. She expected to know better by now. Min knew damn well where this path went and what price she would have to pay, but there was still that inner voice that had grown from a whisper in the dark to a yell, telling her that this time she could learn from her mistakes, that this time would work, that this time she could have it all.

Words seemed to stick in her throat. "I... I know. I know that together, with our bond and your battle meditation, we'd be unstoppable."

"No!" Carth cried again. He moved toward them, panic clear in his face and in the Force around him. "Min... don't..."

Canderous didn't speak. Min knew he wouldn't. The mantle of saving the Republic was too new, too unfamiliar. If salvation turned to conquest, he would accept it without a thought, as long as she was alive and fighting.

"Yes," Bastila murmured. The bond blazed bright and gloating as she lowered herself to her knees before Min. "My battle meditation is yours, Master. If you command me, the Republic is yours as well."

Min looked down at the woman who had been and could still be so many things to her. Weapon. Apprentice. Jedi Princess. Bondmate. Savior. Family.

"No," she said softly, and not without a great deal of regret. "It would destroy us, and I'm not going to let what happened to me happen to you."

As Min spoke, Bastila bowed her head. Min steeled herself to face her bondmate's anger, but when Bastila looked up, hurt betrayal shone out from her blue eyes and despair washed over the bond. Bastila covered it quickly, twisting her expression back to a mask of disdain. "I should have killed you that day rather than see you so diminished."

She sprang to her feet, ignited her lightstaff, and flung out her other arm. Her face was bathed in red light, and Min heard twin grunts behind her as Canderous and Jolee sailed away from them to land with a heavy crash on the other side of the platform.

Min ignited her lightsabers. "But you didn't, and now it's my turn to save you."

Bastila laughed hollowly as she began to circle, looking for an opening to strike. "Oh, thank the Force. Revan the savior has come to my rescue. A gesture that might have been appreciated before I was tortured near to death."

Min waited for the inevitable attack and tried to ignore the useless guilt that Bastila's words dredged up. "If there had been a way to reach you, we would have come for you sooner."

There was only a momentary warning in the bond before the younger woman attacked. The red blades cut blazing arcs in the dim light, bearing down on Min with a frenzy and ferocity she had never seen from her bondmate. Their lightsabers locked and buzzed against each other, until Min gathered the power to throw Bastila off. Her bondmate stumbled back a few steps, but Min didn't press the advantage.

"Of course," Bastila snarled. "You jeopardize our mission for months with reckless acts and endless dalliances with your Mandalorian pet, but play the dutiful Jedi when it is I who am in need." She raised her hand and fingers of lightning cracked toward Min.

Min managed to sweep most of the energy away with one of her lightsabers, but some of the energy caught the metallic hilt. The shock hit her hand and traveled up her arm. Min bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed, but at least she managed not to scream.

"You think we would have left you with Malak if we had a choice?" she choked out. "Do you have any idea what we went through when you were gone?"

Bastila laughed again. "Oh, yes. I'm sure it was very difficult for you. How silly of me to forget that Revan is the center of the galaxy."

"Oh no." Min shook her head. "You don't get to think that we don't give a damn about you, or that we're just doing this out of some banthashit Jedi duty."

Min opened the bond as much as she dared and slammed memories into her bondmate's mind. Carth shouting at her as Min grabbed a fistful of his orange jacket and pulled him away from the _Leviathian's_ blast doors. Carth storming away to the cockpit and Min locking herself into the cargo bay as they both drowned their grief in whiskey. Min made Bastila feel the pain and despair that had fueled Min's demand that Carth take her life, and what it had taken to overcome it. She made Bastila see Carth's unwavering, stubborn refusal to give up, despite knowing what they were about to face.

"I told you before," Min said, "you are the closest thing I have to family. We are not leaving the Star Forge without you."

Bastila staggered under the sudden onslaught. Carth took a step toward her, but before he could take another, Bastila flung out her arm and he flew back again. He slammed into the floor, his head hitting the deck with a dull thud. Panic filled Min for a moment, for Carth and for Bastila if she had seriously hurt him, but she relaxed slightly when she heard Carth's loud curse of pain.

"You are both fools," Bastila gasped. "Your affections have made you weak, Revan." She pulled herself straight again. "Let me show you how Malak strengthened me."

And suddenly the tide of memories reversed and pain flooded the bond. Endless days of pain. The crackle of lightning cut by Bastila's screams. The metal shackles strapping her to the stone table slowly heating to white-hot until they burned into her flesh. And always Malak's metallic voice, yelling threats, wrangling arguments that seemed more and more compelling, and finally whispering promises.

Even though Min had seen glimpses of Bastila's torture through the bond, even though she had shattered fragments of memory of tortures inflicted on other Jedi when she was a Sith Lord, it was still overwhelming. She simply froze for a second until Bastila's blade came crashing down on her. Only years of training saved her from the strike.

Min pushed back, raising her mental defenses as best she could as she pushed Bastila off again. "Strengthened you? He tore you down and forced you to be his apprentice! Don't let that bastard win! Come back to us."

She was aware of the clank of armor and a green glow as Canderous and Jolee took up a defensive position around where Carth was pushing himself to his hands and knees. Bastila took advantage of her distraction and launched another attack. Min met Bastila's blades in a shower of sparks. Bastila fell back, allowing Min to push her by slow steps toward the holoscreen. Her back slammed against the console, and she blocked each of Min's blades on her lightstaff.

"Back to the Jedi?" she sneered. "Back to another path I never chose?"

Beneath the disdain, a new fear slithered through the bond, almost strangling Min in its desperate grip. More than death, Bastila feared that Min's words were true. That they would capture her.

That they would let her live.

Min took a few steps back. She didn't extinguish her lightsabers or lose her defensive pose, but she didn't advance either. Instead she confronted Bastila's unspoken fear. "You're damn right you're going to live! We need you back!"

"There is no way back," Bastila snarled, her anger not quite covering her fear. She stabbed her hand toward the trio of men, but Jolee merely stepped forward, swung his lightsaber, and swept the lightning aside.

"That's enough now, lass," he said mildly.

Bastila gazed at him in wide-eyed astonishment. She retreated a few steps until her back was to the console again, then turned back to Min. "I..." For the first time, the maelstrom of emotion in the bond was reflected in her face. "This is the path I have chosen," she choked out hoarsely.

"No, it isn't. This is the path that Malak sent you down when he captured and tortured you, but it doesn't have to be like that. You can choose to come back to us."

"And then to the Council, I suppose?" She tried to project the sneer back into her voice, but it quavered and cracked instead. "Allow them to wipe my mind and fill my head with lies?"

"No." Min turned to where Canderous had pulled Carth to his feet. The pilot was pale but standing. "No," Carth repeated. "I won't let that happen."

Bastila looked away from him, but that only led her eyes to the holoscreen and she flinched away again. "It's too late," she murmured.

"It's not." Carth took a step toward her, his hand outstretched. "Please, Bastila."

"He's right." Min extinguished her lightsabers and hooked them to her belt. "There's still time to save yourself." Her eyes flicked over to the holoscreen. "And save the Republic."

A chill washed over the bond. Bastila let the hand holding her lightstaff drop to her side and wrapped the other arm around herself. "Of course," she muttered. "You mustn't let the last hope of the Republic fall."

"That's not what we mean and you know it." Carth's voice grew stronger as he crossed the distance between them. Min's shoulders tensed as he came within striking reach of the still-lit red blades. "We want you. We want you to come back to us."

Bastila continued to study the deck at her feet. "After all I've done... to them... to you..." Tears choked her voice as she trailed off.

"It doesn't matter," Carth replied, coming to stand directly in front of her. Bastila looked up then with a withering eyebrow raise that was so familiar that Min nearly laughed and Carth did snort. "Okay, it matters, but we'll... we'll deal with all that later. Just... please." Slowly his hesitant hand reached up to cup her cheek. She startled back, eyes wide, but he held her gently and lowered his forehead to hers. "Please come back."

Her eyes slid closed as the tears slipped down her cheeks. The red blades hissed out, and she collapsed against him, burying her face in his jacket.

Min watched them with a lump in her throat. She wanted to give them the time and the privacy they deserved, but the flickering lights on the holo told her that in a few more minutes, the Republic Fleet would be beyond their help.

She gave them a few more moments before clearing her throat and touching Bastila gently on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, but if we're going to help the fleet, it has to be now."

Bastila took a step back from Carth, cheeks slightly pink and one hand wiping at her eyes. "Of course. I... I will do all I can." Without meeting either of their eyes, she paced away toward the holoscreen and dropped wearily into her meditative posture again.

Carth turned to Min with a worried frown.

"I know," Min murmured.

Min walked over to Bastila and joined her on the floor. "You don't have to do this by yourself." In fact, Min wasn't sure that in her confused and exhausted state Bastila could accomplish much on her own. But more than that she was simply worried about the toll this was taking on her bondmate. Once again, the fate of the galaxy had been laid on Bastila's slim shoulders, and that wasn't right.

"This is my mess to clean up too. Let me help you."

Min could feel Bastila groping for control, searching for the calm space she required to use her battle mediation. But Malak had cracked her discipline and too much was leaking through—pleasure and surprise at Carth's touch, horror and guilt at what she had done to him and the ships outside the viewport, anger and anguish at the torture she had suffered.

Bastila looked up at the holoscreen and new tears fell, born of frustration and helplessness. "I can't..." She turned to Min with terror and mute appeal in her eyes.

It was such a role reversal that for a second Min couldn't do anything but blink. Usually Min was the one with the raging emotions and Bastila the one with the discipline and control. She hadn't realized how much she'd depended and leaned on Bastila until her bondmate had been captured and everything had come crashing down.

"We can," she said as she took her bondmate's hands in her own.

Min blocked the bond as much as she could for the moment and closed her eyes, focusing inward. Using a technique that Bastila had taught her, or maybe retaught her, Min focused on the memory that brought her the most peace.

The memory was supposed to be of a time of mediation or reflection, perhaps sitting at a cool fountain or in one of the meditation rooms on Dantooine. But those cold and unfeeling techniques had never worked for Min. Instead she chose a memory of a time on Tatooine when the whole crew had come together for a few hours of actual camaraderie, drinking the last of the Tarisan Ale, eating the spoils of Canderous's hunt that Jolee and Zaalbar had cooked over a makeshift spit as Tatooine's twin suns set over the golden dunes. When the stars had come out, they had all settled around the remains of the fire and talked in low voices late into the night.

Her breathing evened out as she slowly expanded that peaceful space, using it to drive out her own doubts and guilt and fear, until the peace filled her mind completely. And when she was as sure as she could be, she opened the bond slowly, letting Bastila in bit by bit.

Or that was the plan. Bastila's emotions slammed into her with all of the force of a Tatooine sandstorm, scouring away the edges of Min's mental control. Min groped for reinforcements, and found them in the presence of her friends: Carth's solid determination, Canderous's relentless loyalty, Jolee's wry wisdom. And after a bit, the mental storm blew itself out.

Even in the stillness Bastila floundered for a moment; with the adrenaline of the other emotions fading, exhaustion threatened to drag her down. But Min had more than enough raw strength to spare, and she sent a wave through the bond as if healing her bondmate. Outside of their joined minds, she heard Bastila take a deep breath.

A tingle began at the base of Min's skull, familiar from months of traveling with the younger Jedi. It spread quickly through Min's body, sweeping through her veins to her heart and lungs and then dispersing through her muscles. Fatigue vanished. Even sitting perfectly still, she knew she was a little stronger, a little faster. When she opened her eyes, the holoscreen glowed in crystalline sharpness and the flashing points of light resolved instantly into battle lines in her mind.

So she knew instantly that their window of hope was now barely more than a sliver. The Sith forces had already arrayed themselves with unnatural precision in defense of the looming Star Forge, each ship generating between them a massive energy shield that surrounded the ships and the Star Forge itself and that was next to impossible to penetrate.

Only the thinnest gap remained between two of the bulky dreadnoughts where the shield had not been activated yet. If a squadron of Republic fighters slipped through before the shield closed, they might be able to widen the gap or create a new one in a weaker part of the Sith line. But with every heartbeat the gap narrowed, and when it was gone, the Sith line would be impenetrable.

There was no time for finesse. Min flung a barrage of images at Bastila—the holoscreen map, the battlefield she could see in her mind, the way the ships were laid out now and where they needed to be—and prayed that Bastila could handle the rush of information. She heard a startled gasp and she squeezed Bastila's hands, never taking her eyes from the light display above them.

At first she thought nothing was happening, and it took all of her will to hold back the crushing despair that would surely overwhelm Bastila's fragile control. But then two tiny pinpricks separated from the main Republic line and raced in perfect unison toward the almost imperceptible gap. A third and fourth were not far behind, and within moments an entire squadron—in ragged lines at first, but soon locking into a seamless wedge—rocketed forward.

"Come on," she heard Carth whisper.

Before the Sith ships could react, the first fighter hit the gap and the wedge unraveled into a twisting ribbon. The ribbon threaded through the hole, then burst out behind the Sith line.

Min knew that the pair of dreadnaughts were too big and too formidable for one small fighter squadron to take out, but that wasn't her target. Min flashed her bondmate more images of a smaller Sith cruiser further down the line. She watched as Republic forces on both sides of the Sith defenses raced for that ship.

She sent an urgent thought to Bastila to focus fire on the starboard thrusters.

She felt a surge of mental energy from her bondmate accompanied by the mental picture of a ship's thrusters. Up on the glowing map, the Republic fighters converged on the ship, and for a minute, Min couldn't tell if they were successful or not.

But then she saw it. Without its thrusters to compensate for the gravitational well of the star below, the ship began to list downward toward the dreadnought underneath. She felt another surge of their combined power, this time directed at the dreadnaught, and she got a mental image of its crew, blinking in confusion, their reaction times a bit too slow. Then the cruiser slammed into the dreadnaught's bridge.

On the screen a blip of light flashed, signaling the explosion, and when it cleared she could see a well-defined hole in the defense grid.

The Republic didn't waste their chance. They pounced on the gap, pushing their ships through. Nearby Sith ships broke formation to compensate and soon the massive shield began to fall apart.

Min and Bastila continued to look for weak spots, slowing the enemy down, speeding the Republic fleet up, tightening their formations. By the time Min felt Bastila's fatigue slam into her, the Sith fleet was in complete chaos.

Min wanted to stay until the battle was over, but she was unwilling to push her bondmate further, and she could feel herself growing tired under the strain of the battle meditation. Knowing that they'd done all that they could do, Min began to withdraw her power and focus. The clarity of the battlefield receded, until it was just the two of them back on the Star Forge, sitting across from each other.

Dark shadows smudged Bastila's eyes, which seemed too large in her pale, drawn face. "Is it enough?" Her voice, though barely louder than a whisper, echoed in the cavernous chamber.

Min nodded and squeezed her hands. "Yes." She looked over at Carth. "Now it's time to get you out of here."

Carth's grim expression held the same conflict as the bond. When Min looked back at Bastila, the younger woman was slowly shaking her head. "You may need our assistance." The words were calm, but Min could feel her fluttering panic at the thought of facing Malak again.

"You're in no shape to face him," Min said as she shook her head. She appreciated Bastila's words, but she was unwilling to risk her bondmate. "Anyway, this is between him and me. It started with us; it ends with us. That's how it has to be." She stood and helped her bondmate to her feet and turned to Carth. "Get her to the ship. If things get too hot down there, leave. No banthashit heroics, okay?"

Bastila wavered slightly, and Carth stepped forward to slip an arm around her waist. He looked at Min over her head. "I don't like leaving people behind." She noticed he didn't say he wouldn't.

Min couldn't help the slight smile as she remembered the first time he'd said those words to her way back on Taris when she'd asked him why he'd waited for a stranger to get to the _Endar Spire_'s last escape pod.

"Hopefully you won't have to," she said, as she glanced up at the holo map in front of them, knowing that time was going to be short. It wouldn't be long before the Republic fleet began the main assault on the Star Forge itself.

She turned to Jolee. "You too, old man. Time for you to get lost."

"You think you can get rid of me that easily? Hmph. Young people these days. Ungrateful snots all of you."

"You really think Onasi's getting her back to the ship by himself?" Canderous growled.

Carth shot him a glare. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Canderous turned his scowl from Jolee to Carth. "You really think she's getting halfway to the ship before you have to carry her? You still a good shot with your arms full of Jedi?"

"I'll be fine," Bastila murmured, but as Carth looked down at her, he suddenly looked a lot less sure.

For once Jolee actually let his worry show on his face. It made him look like the old man that he was. Min wondered if Jolee was worried that she'd fall or if he was worried she'd be killed. "Are you sure this is a good idea, kid?"

Her eyes flicked to the holo map where she could see the Republic fleet already gearing up for their assault on the Star Forge. It wouldn't be long now. "I think in twenty minutes, it's all going to be over one way or another. Go to the _Ebon Hawk_, Jolee. Please."

Jolee sighed. "All right. If that's how you want it." He frowned at Canderous. "And what about him?"

"She knows I'm staying." Canderous answered Jolee, but his hard gray eyes were on Min.

Min met his eyes and frowned, "What I know is that you're a stubborn, boneheaded bastard."

She turned back to Jolee, Carth, and Bastila. As she looked at the three of them for what might be the last time, her voice grew thick. "If I don't–" She cut herself off with shake of her head and began again. "Take care of each other, okay?"

Bastila looked back at her, distress clear in her face and in the bond. "We will not be far," she insisted. "If you... are in need, I will know. And we will return for you."

"We'll be on that ship in fifteen," Canderous said. Bastila glanced at him with a dubious expression, as if she were unsure about leaving her bondmate with him, but he had already turned to Carth. "Have the engine running."

"Yeah, thanks," Carth replied dryly. "I'd actually figured that one out for myself."

Canderous just shrugged and turned back to Min. "We should get moving."

"I know, I just..." Min broke off and pulled her bondmate into a quick, fierce hug.

Bastila hugged her just as tightly. For once her emotions shone clearly through the bond, unfettered by Bastila's usual restraint. Tears prickled Min's eyes; every trace of the fear of Revan had vanished, leaving only love and gratitude.

"May the Force be with you," Bastila whispered.

"You don't have to do this," Min heard Carth say. "Even if Malak gets off the Star Forge, he won't get past the fleet."

Reluctantly Min let her bondmate go, letting Carth slip his arm around Bastila's waist again.

She met the pilot's brown eyes and said, "It doesn't matter. This is how it has to be." As she jerked her thumb toward the door, she heard the first explosions off in the distance and knew that the fleet had begun their assault. "Now get out of here."

For a second, Carth looked like he might say more, but then he simply nodded and began to guide Bastila toward the blast door they'd come through. Jolee gave Min a long appraising look, then shook his head and followed

When Min turned back to Canderous, his repeater was already in his hands. "Which way?" he asked.

Min didn't even have to focus. Malak's growing fury, as he realized he was defeated, was a black stain spreading across her senses, swallowing everything else up. His ice-cold hatred and anger, fueled by the fearsome power of the Dark Side, were focused entirely on her.

He knew she was coming, and despite the brave words she'd spoken to her friends, she shivered. "This way."

Led half by her Force senses, half by broken memories, she led them deeper through the maze of corridors until they came to a long observation room with large duraglass windows that overlooked the heart of the Star Forge. Several flights below and across the giant room she could see Malak waiting. Min froze as she stared down at her former lover in silence.

Canderous came up behind her, a solid presence physically and in the Force. "Problem?"

She turned to him and sighed. "I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll do the smart thing and leave."

He grunted. "The smart thing would have been to leave this fracked-up suicide mission on Dantooine."

She reached up and touched his face. "I'm glad that you didn't. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"Damn right."

Min couldn't help herself. Despite where they were and everything she was about to face, she smiled, and it helped to keep the darkness and the despair at bay. "You're such an arrogant bastard."

"Damn right," he said again, but this time it was a low growl as his arms went around her. "And you're an arrogant bitch for doing this alone."

This was her last chance to taste him, to imprint him on her senses and soak in his strength, so she took it, kissing him hard before pulling back and heading for the door. When the panels slid open, she turned and said the one thing she thought would get through his thick Mandalorian stubborness.

"I'm an arrogant bitch who's technically your Mandalore. Get your ass back to the _Hawk_, Ordo. That's an order."

She stepped through. The door slid shut, and she descended the steps.

* * *

Canderous Ordo was not a man to break his word lightly. Or at all. But as he stood at the observation window on the Star Forge, watching the woman he'd bound himself to racing toward her former lover and current enemy, he very nearly forgot his promise not to interfere. He wouldn't, but he sure as hell wasn't obeying her order to go back to the ship. If she'd ever gotten the chance to talk to Mandalore, the one she'd killed, he would have told her that Canderous Ordo was as brilliant a general as he was a rebellious son of a bitch.

Revan moved quickly. The bald jackass was pacing in front of the Star Forge's controls like he couldn't wait to get his hands on her. Canderous's fists and jaw clenched at the unwelcome thought that Malak's hands had once been all over Min's dark skin. When she reached him, she paused. She wasn't stupid enough to leave her sabers undrawn or unlit, but she didn't attack right away. Canderous couldn't hear anything through the duraglass and the clanking and crackling of the Star Forge, but he could see Malak's cold, disdainful glare at whatever Min had said.

Her back stiffened as Malak taunted her. He flung an arm up to point at Canderous, and Revan took a step toward him. Canderous made a rude gesture back, but the bastard didn't take his eyes off Revan. He yelled something, his face—what was left of it—contorted with rage, and Revan finally attacked.

Malak was ready. Twin red sabers met her yellow ones and deflected them easily. He said something again, somehow looking smug even missing half his face. He counterattacked almost lazily, pushing Revan back toward the stairs to the next platform. The moment before she would have had to step up, she twisted the grip on her sabers and launched a new offensive.

The bastard actually laughed. Canderous's stomach twisted, but the fighting pair turned and he caught a glimpse of Min's face. There was no fear there, only grief. As he watched them move back and forth, attack and counterattack, he realized he was watching two partners in a sparring match that had gone on for years, maybe decades. Maybe for most of their lives. His gut told him that given the choice, Revan would let it go on, live in this fight that was past and present, enemies and allies, until the Republic fleet killed them both. The sound of detonations, once muffled by the Star Forge's machinery, was growing more noticeable, and soon a direct hit rocked the center of the station, rattling the observation window and sending Canderous stumbling back.

When he reached the window again, the fighters were getting to their feet as well. Malak glanced up at a porthole set high in the chamber; he must have realized the station's shields had failed. He turned to Revan, still pushing herself upright, and before Canderous shouted a warning he couldn't stop and she wouldn't hear, Malak attacked.

Revan barely got her feet under her before the red sabers slammed into hers. She scrambled for purchase, and Malak pressed the advantage, pushing her further and further back. Canderous's insides roiled; he had to admit the guy was a master. Revan was good, one of the best he'd faced, but hand to hand, blade to blade, there were a handful of people who could take her down. Canderous himself was one. Malak was another.

But this wasn't a sparring match or an honor duel; this was to end it. In the midst of a frantic flurry of blades, Min paused, and for a heart-stopping moment, Canderous thought she was going to let him strike her down. But in the next instant Malak flew halfway across the chamber, slamming into a railing and slumping dazed to the staircase below. Revan hung back, watching as he shook his head and staggered to his feet. He charged again, and a large storage container rocketed toward him, slamming him down and knocking one lightsaber from his grip.

From then on it was a new fight, a fight of Malak chasing and Revan launching a devastating artillery attack. Everything in the chamber became a weapon. Consoles became bombs. Machinery became missiles. Lightning crackled from her outstretched fingers. Malak tried to respond with attacks of his own, but Canderous knew, with a fierce pride that filled his blood and his bones, that for sheer power, no one living, maybe no one ever, could match her.

But that kind of power took its toll. Before long, Malak was bruised and bloodied, but as Min took up a position not far below Canderous's vantage point, he could see her panting and flicking away the sweat that streamed down her face. As she dove for a better angle of attack, Malak sent a thick metal pipe after her. If it was meant for her head or her chest, it missed the mark. But it slammed into her left hand, pinning it against a large generator. When the pipe fell to the deck, her lightsaber fell with it, and she cradled her crushed hand to her body.

Sensing an opening, Malak stretched out his hand and his second lightsaber shot into his palm. He gathered himself and jumped two floors up to block her attempted retreat. She began to back away, lighting firing from her uninjured hand, but her attacks became unfocused, blurred by exhaustion and pain. Malak successfully herded her toward the towering main console at the far end of the room. When her back hit the wall, Canderous launched himself at the door panel of the observation room. The doors slid back. The roar of the machinery beyond filled his ears, and he gripped the doorframe, torn between his vow to protect her and his vow to let her face her enemy alone.

The figures below were too far away to hear clearly, but he heard Min murmur something. Malak's sick mechanical laugh echoed through the chamber, and his answer was mocking. Min shook her head, a stricken look on her face, and her voice broke when she replied. Malak's only response was to dive forward, one lightsaber aimed at her head and one at her heart.

A sudden blast rocked the chamber and a cloud of smoke enveloped them, Canderous took an involuntary step forward, cursing the Republic until he realized he was still on his feet. The explosion hadn't come from the fleet outside but was contained in the space around the main console. A yellow glow emerged from the smoke, and Canderous squinted. Through stinging eyes, he watched Revan approach the torn and kneeling figure of Malak. The console behind him was reduced to twisted rubble and drifting ash.

If Min spoke again, Canderous didn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. The yellow blade flashed, and before Malak's body had even hit the deck, Canderous charged toward them, metal boots ringing on the stairs and eyes on the woman who slowly toppled next to the slain corpse of her enemy.

* * *

Min lay on her side next to Malak's fallen body, her breaths coming in shallow jerks. Her crushed hand pressed up against her chest when she shifted to reach with her good hand for the silver lightsaber hilt that lay between them, sending shocks of pain up her arm.

Her fingers, slick with her own blood, curled around Malak's lightsaber. It was a weapon that she'd watched him build back when they were both better people, meticulously, methodically, relentlessly until it was a work of art. She clutched the cold metal and sighed knowing that it was finally over and it was time to rest. If she didn't bleed out from the shrapnel wounds on her side, the Star Forge would explode and take her with it and Min was at peace with her impending death. She felt sadness at not having more time with her lover and friends, but she knew that this was the way she was supposed to die.

Through the bond she could sense Bastila's fear, but it was muffled by Min's pain and exhaustion. Min couldn't summon up the focus to speak through the bond, she simply sent her love and a silent apology as the world went fuzzy.

Blissful darkness started to drag her into oblivion, but the pair of metal boots filling her vision shattered her peaceful resignation. She looked up at Canderous, cold fear for him snapping everything back into focus.

When he reached for her she held up her bloody hand, still clutching Malak's lightsaber, to stop him. "No!" she croaked.

He didn't reply, and his hands didn't stop moving toward her. The contact wrung a strangled gasp of pain from her, and he froze, then stepped over her. Crouching down behind her, he started fiddling with something she couldn't see through the gray at the edges of her vision. She felt a sting in her neck—barely noticeable through the haze—and then felt his hands sliding beneath her knees and shoulders.

"Dammit, Canderous!" She tried to twist out of his grasp, but she was too feeble to put up much of a fight, especially with her head spinning from the loss of blood. "Don't you ever listen to anything that I say?"

"The stuff that's not banthashit." He rolled her gently toward his chest, then cursed when a blast rocked the Star Forge and nearly sent them sprawling again.

Her vision started to blur; she didn't know if was from tears or from going into shock. A chill seeped into her body, and she could feel the darkness dragging her down again, but this time instead of embracing it, she fought it as hard as she could to stay conscious, using the burning indignation his words caused to stay focused. "It's not banthashit!" she slurred. "You have a better chance without me."

He staggered to his feet. "We have a better chance if you stop fighting me, jackass." His voice sounded simultaneously close and impossibly far away. Then he began to run, every bootfall sending a stab of agony through her.

Frustration howled through her, at him for being such a stubborn bastard and at herself for not being strong enough to kick his ass for it. She had to force every word past her lips. "I don't want you to die with me."

"Nobody's dying," he snapped. But he was already panting under the combined weight of her and his armor, and then another blast slammed them into a bulkhead. He twisted at the last second to shield her from the impact and she heard the loud grunt as the air left his body.

Even with her Jedi senses nearly exhausted, she could sense his fear. Min struggled to stay conscious, frustrated, angry, and afraid for him, but the pain and the shock overwhelmed her. The last thing she remembered before everything went black was the feel of his hard armor against her cheek.

* * *

It was the quiet that was going to make him crazy. The corridors of the Star Forge were abandoned. The only sound aside from his own ragged panting and metal boots hitting the metal deck was distant alarm claxons. The only sense of distance was in the lights changing from normal white to emergency red and back again as he skirted the areas damaged by the blasts.

If there were enemies to dodge, debris to avoid, he'd be able to focus, to separate what he had to do from the mounting anger and frustration that was clawing their way up from his gut. He didn't care if he died; he'd never looked for death, but he'd never shied away from it either. But to let her die, to fail her, just because he wasn't fracking fast enough to save her… it was a good thing he'd be dead too because that wasn't something he could live with.

She didn't fight him anymore, didn't talk. That's how he knew she was unconscious; it was the only thing that would shut her up and end her pointless ranting that he leave her behind. Quiet as it was, he couldn't hear her shallow breaths, and he slowed every ten paces or so to watch her chest rise and fall. It was a stupid waste of time and he knew it, but he couldn't stop.

A deep, booming blast rocked the deck beneath him, and he stretched with the hand beneath her knees to snag a loose electrical cable and keep his feet. He curled himself around the limp form in his arms as he slammed into the wall. Stars danced in his vision as the back of his skull collided with a jutting pipe. He shook his head and pushed away from the wall, forcing his aching legs to push on. He'd only had one stim left on him, and he'd already injected it into her.

The silence had given way to a ringing his ears. At first he thought it was an echo from the blast. Then he realized it was his stupid motherfracking commlink.

He refused to slow down so it took long moments of juggling before he retrieved it from his pocket. "What?" he yelled almost before he'd pressed the button.

"Ordo?" Onasi's voice crackled through static. "Where the hell are you?"

Canderous grit his teeth. "Where the hell do you think I am?"

"I don't know. Bastila can't sense Min anymore. Is she–?"

"Unconscious," Canderous snapped, cutting him off. "Now shut up. I'm busy."

"We've got maybe a minute before this whole place comes down, Ordo."

"Then fracking get ready to fly." He didn't even bother to cut the connection; he just let the commlink drop from his hand to land with a small ping on the deck below. Min was slipping from his grasp, but with all the shrapnel lodged in her side, adjusting his hold on her could mean doing more damage. He dug his fingers into her upper arm and leg, knowing a few more bruises wouldn't make any difference at this point.

He'd almost reached the end of the corridor when the strongest blast yet knocked his feet out from under him. His cramping legs screamed in protest as he slammed to his knees. His hand dropped Min's leg to splay flat on the deck in a desperate attempt to keep his momentum from crushing his own body down on top of her. The other arm cradled her head against his shoulder as he slid forward a few feet. When he finally skidded to a stop, he gasped for air for a long moment before looking up. They'd slid from the corridor into the wide, cavernous space beyond.

The fracking docking bay.

Looking up from his knees, he could see Blue frantically beckoning to him from the open ramp of the _Ebon Hawk_. With a wordless roar and a spike of adrenaline, he jumped to his feet and sprinted across the deck before pounding up the ramp. Vaguely he heard Blue shouting into the comm and almost instantly the deck shifted as the ship began to climb in a rapid ascent. Canderous didn't slow down but let his last surge carry him all the way to the med bay.

Bindo grabbed his shoulder as he burst into the room and guided him toward the empty bunk. Canderous forced his body to slow and lay Min gently down. Without a word, the old Jedi pushed himself between Canderous and the bunk, already sweeping his hands through the air over Min's bleeding wounds. Canderous staggered back until he ran into the wall, then his legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed into an awkward crouch, gulping air.

The ship was rolling beneath him with whatever fancy maneuvers Onasi was engaged in, but after the Star Forge the movement barely registered. Bindo muttered to himself and shook his head as a muted white glow surrounded his hands. Canderous stared up at the still figure on the bunk, not knowing if he felt better or worse now that there was nothing else he could do.

"Nobody's dying," he panted again, stubbornly.


	6. Balm

_**Balm**_

Carth blinked in the bright sunlight as he stepped down from the _Hawk_'s loading ramp. After two days of almost nonstop debriefs, he'd wanted to check in on the ship and its passengers. The Republic brass had required interviews with everyone in their crew, but most of them got off luckier than Carth. They'd let Mission and Zaalbar wander off after just a few hours. The droids had only required a quick download of their memory banks. They hadn't even found Ordo yet; as soon as Min had been carted off to one of the big cruisers with a kolto tank, the Mandalorian had disappeared into the Rakatan wilderness. Carth's superiors were none too happy about it, but Carth found it hard to hide a grin as he shrugged and honestly reported he didn't have a clue where Ordo was.

He didn't have a clue where the Jedi were either, and that didn't sit as well with him. He knew Bastila was all right physically, but she'd been through so much and he... well, he didn't know what he wanted to do. But he sure as hell wasn't going to let the Council bustle her off to some Temple somewhere. Or worse. He'd given his word about that.

He had one guess of where he could start looking for one of the Jedi, at least. He started off across the sand toward the path that led toward the Rakata temple. Numerous small ships and shuttles lined the beach. Republic soldiers carrying equipment left a deep trail of footprints between the beach and the path. It was strange. Just days ago the place had been deserted. Now a makeshift Republic base was already taking shape. Carth supposed it was a good thing.

He nodded to the various younger officers who saluted as he walked by. More than once he had to step off the path into the thick undergrowth to let crews carting heavy material pass. The further along he went, the more people he encountered until the flow of personnel almost overwhelmed the thin path. Finally he emerged into the open area near the temple, where the Republic had constructed a small encampment. He glanced around for the small bunker one of his interviewers had reluctantly given him the location to. He would have probably found it anyway; two guards were posted a discreet distance away. Carth frowned a little at that, though just a few days ago, he probably would have ordered it himself.

The guards watched him approach, but didn't challenge him. He pulled open the manual door to the bunker, then squinted as his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness inside. A thin sheet draped across the entrance, beyond which he could see the faint blue glow and hear the steady beeping of medical equipment. He paused before pulling the sheet back and cleared his throat.

"All right if I come back?" he called.

"Well, I don't know," Min said. "What do you think, Bastila? Should we let your pilot interrupt our girl time or not?"

A small smile spread across his face. Just knowing Bastila was safe, just on the other side of the curtain, not squirreled away somewhere by the Jedi... though it quickly occurred to him that maybe the guards weren't just there for Min. That thought chased the smile away.

"Please enter, Carth," Bastila replied. Her voice held a hint of exasperation, and he didn't have to see them to know Min had just received a rather pointed glare. His lips twitched upward again as he swept back the curtain.

Bastila sat in a chair pulled up close to the head of the bed, where Min sat, propped up by a small mountain of pillows. They each looked ashen and exhausted, but at least neither of them was sporting any openly bleeding wounds. That was a step forward.

He shook his head in mock disappointment. "Save one little galaxy and suddenly you think you're entitled to just lounge around for a few days."

Min responded with a dramatic sigh. "Not all of us have those rugged Onasi looks. Some of us need our beauty sleep."

Carth smirked. "I'm not touching that one." He walked over to the chair on the other side of the bed and sat, leaning the chair back on two legs. "What's the word from the medics?"

"The shrapnel wounds were pretty bad, but they've managed to more or less patch me up. The doctors expect a full recovery in time." Min said it like she still didn't quite believe that she was sitting here with them.

She leaned back against the pillows and looked toward the door. "I imagine that once the Council and Fleet brass hear that, I'll be having a lot of visitors."

"We can probably keep them at bay for a few more days," he said, glancing across the bed to catch Bastila's eye. He was glad for the excuse, curious if she would meet his gaze. She did, and he offered her a reassuring smile, one she tried—and mostly failed—to return.

"Yes," she said to Min. "The Council is quite occupied with... my situation, at the moment."

"In need of a rescue?" Carth asked, only half joking. He had a momentary impulse to just grab her hand, pull her back to the _Hawk_, and take off.

She smiled more successfully this time. "Not as of yet. The Council is mostly sympathetic." The smile faded, and she rose from her seat. "But I should return. It is best if I do not keep them waiting."

"I'll be on the _Hawk_," Carth announced, then realized that wasn't an entirely logical response to her statement. "With, uh... with Mission and Zaalbar and... and anybody else the Fleet's done with. If you can slip away, you should come by."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears and did not meet his eyes. "I will try." She nodded a farewell to Min (or maybe said more over their bond for all he knew), then she ducked out through the curtain.

Carth let out a loud breath and turned back to Min. "Does she mean that?"

"She does, but she's worried about whether she should." Min frowned. "You know where the Council stands on personal attachments. Considering what happened, they're probably extra protective of her now. Not to mention that she's beating herself up for what happened."

"She's not the only one," Carth muttered under his breath. Before the Star Forge, he'd tried his best to focus on what was ahead, on what had to be done. But then he'd seen her, so angry and broken, and everything he'd told himself about how they'd done all they could had boiled down to exactly jack.

"Listen, flyboy. There isn't anything more that you could have done. The fact that we got her back at all, before she did anything truly horrible–" Her face twisted in grief. "Most Jedi who fall are not that lucky."

"I know, I know," he sighed. He let the front of the chair drop with a thunk, then leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. "Is she really back?" he asked, not sure he wanted the answer. "I mean, something like that... she can't just pick up where she left off."

"No. There's no going back now." She paused, her dark eyes studying Carth. "But that doesn't mean she can't build something new."

He nodded. He needed that to be true, and not just for Bastila. They all deserved another chance, and in the end, that included the woman in the bed. "Are you all right? It... it couldn't have been easy." Even he wasn't entirely sure what he was referring to. Facing Bastila? Turning down the power she'd offered? Killing her former lover?

"Right now, I feel... numb." Min looked down at her hands, one bandaged tightly and the other clutching a silver lightsaber hilt that he didn't recognize. "I thought I was going to die on the Star Forge. I thought that's how it was supposed to be." Dark curls bobbed as she shook her head. "I didn't expect to wake up."

"Honestly? I didn't expect to see you again." He offered her half a smile. "I guess we're lucky Ordo's such a stubborn jackass."

She looked up at him and sighed. "Carth, you don't have to pretend."

The smile settled back into the worried frown he felt like he'd been wearing for... well, years. "Who's pretending?"

"You have every reason to wish that I had died on the Star Forge. I don't hold that against you."

Carth looked down at his hands dangling between his knees. "I wanted to hate you. Force knows I tried. I thought if I didn't... that it would be betraying my wife somehow. And I already felt guilty because of Bastila."

He sighed and sat back in the chair to meet her eyes. "But Morgana would be the last person to want me to live like that. To live with that twisted-up feeling in my gut. And she'd be grateful for what you did for Dustil. And me."

She blinked and her voice grew thick. "Your hate was much easier to live with. I don't think I can take your forgiveness, Onasi."

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say I forgive you."

Relief smoothed out her features as she relaxed. "Good. You shouldn't. What I did to you and your family is not something I can make up for after the fact."

"You're right about that." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the uneasy truce his head and his heart had seemed to come to. "I just... I can't carry it anymore. Not if I want to build something new. Dustil's alive. That's what matters now."

Min studied him in thoughtful silence and for once her emotions didn't play out across her face. When she finally spoke, her lips twitched. "So what you're saying is that it's not all about me."

The half-smile returned. "Yeah, pretty much."

She arched an eyebrow at him, but her voice was rueful. "Everyone seems to be telling me that lately. It's been quite the blow to my colossal ego."

"I'm sure the Masters would say humility is good for a Jedi."

"No doubt. But then, we both know the Jedi Masters are full of banthashit." Her expression darkened. "Which they're probably directing at Bastila, as we speak."

One day, everyone he cared about was going to be safe and happy all at the same time. "What will they do with her?"

"I don't know. Depends on who's left on the Council. Probably isolate her. Make her do lots of meditation and reflection on her mistakes. They definitely aren't going to be happy when they find out how she feels about you."

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a loud breath. "See? This is what I was afraid of. That this would make things harder for her."

Min made an exasperated sound as she glared at him. "Of course this is going to make things harder with the Council! It would still be worth it."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that look," he shot back. "If you think I'm backing down now, you don't know me as well as I thought."

"Finally!" she said as she threw her hands up in the air, wincing momentarily at her bandaged hand. But the pain didn't stop her from badgering him more. "So do you have a plan?"

Carth raised an eyebrow. "Are we talking bringing her flowers or kidnapping her away from the Council?"

It was the first time he'd heard her laugh since the _Leviathan_. "Well, I don't know, Onasi. I've never seen you in action before. I'm partial to anything that involves explosions and ticking off the Council, but flowers seem like it might be more your style."

"It's been a long time since I've been in action." He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to do the math. "A _long_ time."

"I'm not sure that Bastila's ever..." Min cleared her throat. "...been _in action_ before. You're going to have to be the one to suck it up and lead the way."

Carth's eyes widened as he was suddenly struck with a whole new set of complications. "I don't want to... get ahead of myself here, but you don't really think she's never...?"

Min shrugged. "She's a Jedi. There's no actual rule against taking a lover, but it's certainly not encouraged. Besides from what I can tell, she spent most of her time isolated from the other Padawans in special training for her battle meditation or on the front lines of the war. I can't imagine she would have had much of a chance."

Carth buried his head in his hands. "Remember that conversation we had about me being a dirty old man? 'Cause I sure do."

"Oh please. You're too damn wholesome to be a dirty old man." Min's voice was distinctly unsympathetic. "Look, you already know how she feels about you. All you have to do is convince Bastila that it's not some kind of betrayal of the Jedi to be with you. I figure at the speed you two move, you'll be holding her hand sometime next year."

"Hey," he grumbled, affronted. "I'm just rusty. Give me some time to warm up." He sighed. "You think she can be convinced? Does she want to be?" Then he suddenly shook his head and frowned. "I... I probably shouldn't ask you that. It doesn't seem... I can't invade her privacy just because you can see into her head."

"Carth, you're the one who talked her back from the Dark Side. That should tell you everything you need to know."

"I wasn't alone," Carth pointed out. "You could have... it all could have ended right there. But you didn't let that happen, and I know a lot of it was because of her. Because of how much you care about her."

Pain flashed across Min's face, the kind that had nothing to do with her physical wounds. He could see the shame that shone in her dark eyes. "I wouldn't even have been there for her if it hadn't been for you."

Despite how much he wanted to put it all behind him, despite how much he knew he needed to, a small petty piece of him insisted she deserved the pain and the shame. He swallowed it down and pasted on a wry grin. "That's what a good crew does. We look out for each other."

Min looked at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Carth could see the protest form on her lips, but then she shook her head and swallowed the words down. After a few more seconds of silence, she said, "They're okay, right? Bastila told me that everyone made it off the Star Forge, but the two of you are the only ones I've seen since they let me out of the kolto tank."

"They're fine. We've all just been dragged through debriefings by the Jedi or the fleet." He shook his head. "Well, except Ordo. I'm starting to think he was the smart one."

She winced. "Do I even want to know what he's done?"

"When they came to take you to the kolto tank on the _Endeavor_, he just took off." Carth waved a hand toward the exterior of the bunker. "I'm sure he's out there killing things or dancing around in his armor or whatever Mandalorians do in the middle of nowhere."

"I expect that he'll be around then eventually." The wince turned into a scowl that was completely at odds with the pleased tone of her voice. "Especially since he told me I'd have to kill him to get rid of him."

Carth snorted. "Is that Mandalorian romance?"

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it." She cocked her head to the side. "This could work to your advantage, you know. Once the Council finds out that Revan has a lover that was a Mandalorian General, they're not going to be so worried about the War Hero making time with the Hope of the Republic."

Carth leaned back in his chair again. "Or they're going to think that your bond has corrupted her somehow. That you've opened her up to the Male Side."

She laughed. "Probably. But then it's their fault for leaving me bonded to her." But as quickly as it came, her amusement evaporated. The stricken look on her face made her fear and grief obvious. "Of course they don't have to now that the mission's over. They could probably break our bond if they wanted to."

Carth just looked at her, unsure what to say, as the front legs of the chair settled back on the ground. He couldn't say they wouldn't because knowing the Council they probably would if they could. And it seemed like something some Jedi somewhere would know how to do.

"Damn," he murmured. "You know she won't want them to, right? She'll stop them if she can."

"Will she?" she said, her dark eyes searching his face. "Her confidence has been shaken so badly, and being bonded to me hasn't been easy for her. If the Council wants to do it, she just might allow it."

He shook his head. "Not a chance. I doubt they wanted her sitting here with you either, but that didn't stop her."

"I hope you're right. Losing the bond would be..." Min wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged herself tightly, as though she could physically protect the bond. Her mouth tightened into a hard line. "But I won't let them. Not if she wants to keep it too. She's had too many things forced on her, by circumstance, by the Council, and by Malak. I will _not_ let them use her as one of their tools again."

A grim smile crossed his face. "More and more, I'm seeing the benefits of the kidnapping over the flowers."

She shot him a sympathetic look. "She'd go back to them eventually. Being a Jedi is who she is."

"And what about you?" he asked. "Is a Jedi what you are?"

"I don't know," she said. "I've been so many different things in such a short period of time. I guess I'll have to find out."

Carth rose from his chair, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't Jolee; he didn't have any rambling anecdotes or pithy advice. He really only had one thing he could give, and it wasn't entirely his to offer. Still, he had to tamp down a pang of regret as he said the words.

"Well, if you need a ship, the _Hawk_'s yours."

Even though her brows rose and her lips twitched, he could see that she was touched by his words. "I appreciate the offer." It turned into an actual smile. "But don't worry. I won't take you up on it."

He smiled back, a little sheepishly. "I'm not sure I can afford to keep her anyway. Not to mention the fact that technically she's stolen."

"You don't want to leave her in my hands," Min said. "Unless you want Canderous building more fires in the swoop hangar."

Carth felt his eyebrows bolt for his hairline. "Wait. _More_ fires?"

She held her hands out on front of her. "Hey, don't look at me. I already yelled at him for it."

Carth buried his face in one hand. "How upset would you be if I killed him?"

"Death seems rather extreme," she said, sounding far more amused than she should have been.

He looked up, pointing a finger in her direction. "Says you. And what were you doing while he was burning down half my ship?"

Even under her dark skin, he could see the flush of color on her cheeks. "Are you sure you really want to know?"

He gaped at her in disbelief. "Are you serious? While the ship was on _fire_? That's just... I can't believe..." He cut off with a frustrated growl. "That is just irresponsible," he snapped. "And I take back my offer. You'll be lucky if I let the two of you back on that ship ever again. Especially together!"

She could barely speak because she was laughing so hard. "It was just a little camp fire, and I made him clean it up."

"You're both insane," Carth muttered. "I suspected it, but now I know."

His words did not dampen her amusement at all. "You're going to go back to the _Hawk_ now and spend the next several hours inspecting the swoop hangar, aren't you?"

"Yes." He glared at her, not least for giving him the mental image of Ordo by firelight. "And I'm declaring the _Hawk_ a sex-free zone."

"Don't be jealous, Onasi. If things go well, you'll get to light fires and have mad, passionate sex on the _Hawk_ too."

He was pushing forty, and he could still feel a blush stealing up the back of his neck. "Still working on flowers, remember?" He glanced toward the doorway, then jerked a thumb in that direction. "Think if I go snoop around the Council, anyone will give me a straight answer about where she is?"

Min grew serious as she considered his question for a few seconds. "Master Zhar, if he survived Dantooine. He's the most understanding of the Council, and probably your best shot."

"Twi'lek, right? You really think he'll help me?"

"I think that out of all of the masters, he's the one who sees the person and not the battle meditation—at least from what I saw in those few weeks on Dantooine."

Carth cleared his throat. "So how... obvious is it that I'm... why I... want to see her? To a Force user, I mean."

Min's voice was wry. "Well, if you're smooth like that, it's going to be very obvious. Look, they're not going to pry into your thoughts if that's what you're worried about, but they might sense the way you feel. It's probably a moot point anyway. Knowing Bastila, there's a good chance she's already told them herself."

"Right." He was just going to have to accept that the Council would be privy to his feelings, either because they could pick up on them or because they were a part of Bastila's life. He would accept it, but he wasn't sure he would ever like it. "And I suppose playing it cool with Bastila is out of the question?" He couldn't decide if it would be a relief or an embarrassment to be with a woman who knew exactly how badly he wanted her.

"That ship broke orbit awhile back, but that's a good thing. I doubt that any man has ever brought her flowers before or taken her to dinner or even kissed her. Everything you take for granted about this, she's never done. If you played it cool, she'd probably be completely confused."

He met her gaze. "Well, if she ever talks to you, or if you ever feel it, tell her not to be confused. Because I'm not."

"I will." She smirked. "We talk about you all the time."

"Wonderful," he drawled. "Anything I want to know?"

"Not unless you want to turn red and start stammering again."

Even the suggestion brought an awkward warmth to the back of his neck. "And that's my cue to leave," he said before she could volunteer any details. "Get some rest. You're probably going to need it."

"I will," she said. "If you happen to see my wayward Mandalorian, tell him I'd like to see him." She shook her head. "Once the two of you are done hurling insults at each other, that is."

Carth shrugged. "We are who we are." Then he nodded. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." She studied him thoughtfully. "I'd say, 'May the Force be with you,' but I think that it already is."

"Let's hope," he murmured. He stood there for a moment longer, not sure what else to say, not sure when or how he'd see her again. Or under what circumstances. He was no Jedi, but he could almost feel the presence of the guards outside. Bastila wasn't the only one who might need rescuing. And he knew in that moment he'd help her if he could. He wasn't sure what he could do, but they were a crew. A good crew looked out for each other.

So he nodded again. "See you around, Min." He smirked. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"I make no promises," Min said as she shook her ruefully. "Now get out of here and go find some flowers."

"Aye, aye." Carth saluted, then turned and headed back through the curtain.

As he exited back to the blue sky and salt-tinged breeze, it hit him. It was over. The mission, the war, Saul. It was all over. For a minute, he just stood outside the bunker, staring up at a wisp of cloud drifting by. He'd never really let himself imagine this moment, and even if he had, there were a lot of things that wouldn't have been part of any fantasy. Dustil. Bastila. Making his peace with Revan of all people.

He took a few deep breaths, enjoying air that hadn't been recirculated through a ship's ventilation system a hundred times. Then he stepped back toward the path that led to the beach, the ship, and the clumps of brightly colored flowers that bent and nodded in the ocean air.

There was still a lot to do.


End file.
